Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A/N: I own nothing related to The 100. I've been publishing this on FanFiction and decided to post it here as well. I have had a few Betas, among them PenguinofProse (who is an amazing writer and whose works you should check out), the others I won't name as I'm not sure if they're on this site. This is quite angst driven in places and some chapters down the line will have trigger warnings. Please enjoy. Large sections of flashbacks are included and labelled.

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Bellamy set aside his pen, rubbing his tired eyes as he leaned back in his chair to take in the view around him. The ornately marbled floor gave way to huge bookshelves filled with dusty volumes-their colorful binding a bright contrast to the dark wood finish. He absently wondered if it would be nerdy to bring his freshman class here for a field trip to accompany his upcoming lecture on local history.

His lesson plans for the next week were complete, and he'd finally finished grading the majority of his classes' assignments with only the freshman to go. He stretched, rising to his feet in search of caffeine.

Bellamy was gathering his things, shoving his stacks of papers down into his satchel when his phone started to ring.

"Hey O," he answered, phone crammed against his shoulder as he struggled with his bag's zipper. He was thankful she was calling him again. It was nice to be needed after too many years of silence between them.

"Are you at the library again?" she asked.

"Yeah," Bellamy huffed, slightly offended at her low chuckle.

Octavia was a middle school physical education teacher, but she had never understood her brother's love of learning. She much preferred a good run to a good book.

"I was out for a jog and spotted your car, I can't believe you still have that awful bumper sticker," her voice pulled him from his musings. "Want to take a break and have coffee with me?"

"Already on my way," Bellamy smiled as he threw his bag over one shoulder. "I'll be down in a few."

She hung up on him in typical O fashion, making him shake his head. He sauntered down the stairs, running a hand through his unruly curls as he pushed open the heavy glass door to find his sister doing cool-down stretches on the library steps.

"Big Brother," Octavia nodded, looking him up and down from the messy curls to his well-worn sneakers.

Bellamy glared, gently gripping her elbow to steer her in the direction of the coffee shop. "How are you, O?"

"I'm good," she returned with a smile. "Obviously a lot better than you."

"I actually have papers to grade," he rolled his eyes. "I don't just referee dodge ball games."

"Touché," Octavia chuckled as they walked into the coffee shop.

Bellamy scanned the menu, reaching for his wallet absently. He turned to ask his sister what she'd like and found her staring at him with hands on her hips. "What?"

"We talked about this Bell," Octavia sighed. "I don't need you to pay. I have my own job and my own money."

"Okay," he replied, hands raised in surrender.

"I'll get the drinks and you grab a seat."

Bellamy did as he was told, finding a table for two in a quiet corner of the busy shop. He watched as his sister made her way over, hot steam rising from one cup while the other was filled with green liquid and obviously iced.

"What is that?" he asked, nose wrinkled in disgust, offended at the very thought of coffee being green.

"Matcha latte. Want a sip?"

Bellamy shook his head. "I think I'll stick to things that look like they actually have caffeine in them."

Octavia chuckled, taking a noisy slurp of her drink her gaze dropping to her phone. Bellamy took the time to study her, all grown up and taking care of herself.

He'd moved to Polis at the end of the summer to be close to his only family-taking a position at Polis High as a high school history teacher. He liked to think she still needed him, but it was clearly evident his little sister was thriving on her own. He would be lying if he said that didn't sting a little but he was glad she was happy.

"How's Lincoln?" Bellamy finally mused aloud, glad he was finally mature enough to appreciate his little sister's other half.

"Good, just working," Octavia grinned proudly. "You'd be surprised by how many people actually show up on a Saturday afternoon for tattoos."

"Is he working tonight?"

"No, he and his business partner leave Saturday nights to their more amateur artists. Apparently it's mostly tipsy people ready to make bad decisions," she replied with an amused shrug.

"So do you think you two would like to have dinner tonight?"

"Sorry Bell, we're having friends over for dinner," Octavia replied with a cringe.

Bellamy's heart constricted for a moment as he remembered back to a time when they shared friends and dinners were a family affair.

"Maybe tomorrow night?" Octavia offered.

Bellamy swallowed his disappointment, forcing a smile as he nodded. "Yeah that would be great. That would probably be better anyway so Echo can come."

"She working tonight?"

Bellamy nodded, taking a big gulp of coffee to cover up the awkward silence that threatened to descend on them.

"I'd offer to cancel, but..." Octavia trailed off.

"No, that's fine O. I have a ton of grading left to do," Bellamy smiled, then changed the subject. "So, I take it Lincoln's tattoo parlor is doing well? I only ask because there's one down the street from my apartment and it's always empty."

"Social media, word of mouth, and pure skill has kept them in high demand," Octavia replied, tilting her head in question. "Are you thinking of getting a new one? I'm sure Lincoln would cut you a deal since you're family."

"Maybe," Bellamy shrugged before pointing to a splash of orange and red just below the inner bend of her elbow. "Did he do that one?"

"Lincoln inked it, but it's his partner's design," Octavia smiled fondly. "See, the circle of the sun isn't blacked out so it can form an 'O' for Octavia. She chose sunshine because apparently I bring fire, brightness, and resilience to the lives of those I care about but if you mess with me I'll burn you."

Bellamy couldn't help but laugh. "I would say she nailed it O."

"Yeah I think so. Do you like it?"

"It's your body, so if you like it then I like it," he reasoned with a smile. She looked so much like the little girl he used to know-wisps of dark hair falling in her eyes only to feather away as she huffed out an exasperated breath.

She looked like she was about to ask about the odd look he must have been wearing when they were interrupted by the appearance of a teenage girl with long dark braids, sparkling baby blues, and combat boots.

"Octavia," the teen grinned, hugging the woman tightly.

"Madi," Octavia smiled back, returning the tight squeeze.

The girl glanced up, her bright eyes lighting on Bellamy's shocked expression.

"Mr. Blake?" She asked, her head tilting to the side as she stared in awe at her history teacher.

"Miss Madi," Bellamy smiled at her and then his sister. "So you two know each other?"

"Octavia is best friends with my foster mum," she replied, her gaze bouncing from one to the other as a look of amazement dawned on her features. "Octavia Blake! That makes you Bellamy!" Madi's excitement was evident as a huge grin lit up her face and she pulled up a chair beside Octavia. "I've heard so much about you!"

"Yes," Octavia chuckled. "This is my big brother, Bellamy Blake."

"I've seriously heard so many stories," Madi gushed, putting her elbows on the table to lean closer to him. "I wish I would have known. I would have said something!"

"O never said I would be teaching someone she knew." Bellamy had liked Madi even before he knew she had a connection with his sister. She was always eager to learn in his class and seemed to give one hundred percent in everything she did.

"You said your foster mum and Octavia are best friends?" He finally asked, resuming the conversation.

Madi bobbed her head, glancing between the Blake siblings. "Should I not have said anything?"

"No, it's fine," Bellamy chuckled. "I try not to play favorites, but you're already doing really well in class."

Madi beamed at his praise, but it was the worried expression that his sister wore that got Bellamy's attention.

"O?"

Before she could reply, Madi was talking again.

"Come to think of it, why would you have known," the girl said with a frown. "I mean, Clarke's told me stories of course, but you guys haven't seen each other in years right?"

Bellamy felt his chest suddenly tighten, as he took a rattled breath. The sound echoed in the silence as he struggled to overcome his shock. Madi's face echoed his sister's concern, but for very different reasons.

"Your foster mother is Clarke? Clarke Griffin," he finally managed through clenched teeth.

Madi nodded and Octavia avoided his angry gaze. His world had just tilted on its axis before coming back to jarring focus.

The table fell into an uncomfortable silence, Madi glancing between the adults. Bellamy stared straight ahead and Octavia watching him with a worried expression.

"I said something I shouldn't have, didn't I?"

Octavia squeezed Madi's hand, taking in her contrite expression and wanting to save the poor girl from the awkward conversation that was to follow.

"No, you didn't say anything wrong. I just hadn't told Bellamy that Clarke was living in Polis," Octavia said with a soft smile. "I'm going to smooth things over, but I'll see you later."

Madi accepted her hug before rising from her chair. She started to leave, but she turned back.

"You aren't still angry with Clarke, are you?" she asked with a hint of worry. "A lot can happen in six years, and I know she regrets a lot that happened."

Bellamy studied the teen for a moment, considering.

"It's not that I'm angry," Bellamy finally replied diplomatically. His stomach was in knots and his mind was scattered. "I'm just surprised. You're right, a lot has changed since those days."

Madi turned to Octavia, "Should I tell Clarke?"

"It's okay, Mads, I'll talk to her after I finish talking to my brother," Octavia promised. "You can talk to her about it later."

"Okay, I'll see you tonight," Madi gave her one last hug. "See you Monday, Mr. Blake."

"See you Monday," Bellamy gave a shaky smile, watching as she gave a quick wave before making her way out of the café.

Silence descended again like a heavy blanket on a hot summer day, stifling and uncomfortable. Bellamy struggled to collect his thoughts, his mind racing.

"Let's get this over with," Octavia's impatient huff brought him back. "Lincoln was Clarke's friend before either of them met us, so he was not just going to cut her off because some stuff went down within the group. What Jasper and Raven pulled was understandable from their perspective, but unfair to Clarke. You weren't there, so you can't completely understand. I may have been, but I had no say before, during, or after. To be honest I was too surprised at the time to react well."

Bellamy ran a shaky hand through his curls, but Octavia kept talking.

"I don't know what went down between you and Clarke, neither of you have ever decided to talk to me about it. From her side I'm glad she didn't want to put me in the middle of it because there were times when she needed someone, and Lincoln and I were it," her tone wouldn't allow for argument. "There were also times when I needed someone, and Clarke was that someone without question."

"O, she didn't even come to Jasper's funeral," Bellamy grit out. "That hurt more than almost all the hurtful words she said."

Octavia snorted derisively. "The fact that you all think she wouldn't have come is something I will never understand. By the time Murphy suggested someone find a way to tell Clarke, Lincoln had already gotten in touch with her. Clarke was already planning on being there."

"I didn't see her." Guilt gnawed at him, but it was easier to believe she had been there without anyone taking notice than it was to continue to think that she hadn't been there at all.

"You think there wouldn't have been some kind of drama if anyone noticed her," Octavia shook her head, "No one deserves that kind of atmosphere at their funeral."

Bellamy couldn't stop as his fingers once again raked through his dark curls. "She cut us all off," he tried again, his deep brown eyes filled with hurt and regret.

"It's a two way street, Bell," Octavia said sadly. "When I contacted her, she didn't hesitate to speak to me."

Bellamy took a deep breath, scrubbing a weary hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"You'll need time to think about this, I know," Octavia shifted to his side and wrapped her arms around him in a rare hug. "But now that you're teaching Madi and living in the same city you won't be able to completely avoid each other. Big Brother, I want you to think about everything, and I mean everything, because I'm going to go talk to her now and then it will be up to the two of you from there. Okay?"

Bellamy nodded, returning her hug before she stood.

"One more thing you might want to factor in," Octavia rested a hand on his shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze as a show of support. "You might like to know that when you tore your ACL and your pro soccer career hung in the balance, that was the only time in these six years that Clarke directly spoke to me about you, and all she asked was whether or not you were okay."

With that Octavia left, Bellamy staring after her wondering how he was going to deal with this.

* * *

Clarke sat in deep concentration as she finished up the last of the design on the arm of a burly biker she knew only as Bunny. She set aside her tattoo gun and wiped away the excess ink, already missing the comforting hum of the instrument.

She patted the biker's shoulder before standing to remove her gloves and toss them in the trashcan nearest her station. She didn't bother giving him instructions; the guy was tatted up so surely he knew how to take care of his new ink.

Clarke sent him on his way with a smile before glancing around the parlor. They were buzzing with business even in the middle of the day the other three artists either talking to or already inking customers.

The Mad Tatter was her pride and joy, and they were doing well. The studio was nestled above a florist, of all things, in an ancient building with a bright red brick façade on historic Main Street. With it's exposed metal pipes and brickwork, Clarke and Lincoln had easily decided on an industrial steampunk theme.

Clarke heard the bell above the door jingle, and rolled her eyes as John Murphy came strolling into the parlor like he owned the place.

"I thought you'd be expecting me," he grinned as he plopped down in her chair.

"I had a sneaking suspicion you'd be by today," Clarke groused, taking her seat and grabbing a pair of gloves. "Tell me what you want again."

Murphy showed her a picture on his phone of a colorful dancing skeleton, "And I want it to glow under UV light!"

She wrinkled her nose, grabbing the phone to get a closer look. "Why would you want this?"

"I like it," he replied cockily. "That's all that matters right? Besides, it's a bit of fun."

Clarke shrugged, she'd seen worse choices. "Fine, but I don't want to hear complaining and I'm not fixing it. You want it covered up you're going to Lincoln."

"Fair," Murphy grinned, stretching out his arm to expose his forearm. "Plus you can't tell me you haven't had a crazier request."

"Maybe, but you're still high on the list," she chuckled; glancing over all the crazy tattoos she'd given him in the last three years.

There was a taco, a black square outline with the phrase "Test Tattoo Please Ignore", a green Martian head with the caption "Stay Weird" beneath it. There was even a barcode that Murphy swore was a working Walmart barcode for Oreos. And the last was a tiny Sponge Bob Squarepants on one finger, but those were just the ones visible on his arms. He really did make her laugh with his crazy requests.

"Most bad decisions are made under the influence of alcohol, but yours are all stone cold sober," Clarke laughed as she finished the design, "but you make up for it by keeping my rusty bucket of bolts running so..."

"What's wrong with it now," the mechanic asked with a dramatic eye roll.

"If I knew I wouldn't need you," Clarke sassed, tossing her gloves and moving to the counter to ring him up.

"Bring it to the garage next week," Murphy huffed, fishing in his pockets for his wallet. "I'll take a look."

"I'll see you at O's tonight," Clarke waved him out the door and set about cleaning her station. Murphy was her last customer for the day and she was due to pick Madi up from the library within the hour.

She made her way to the back room where she found Lincoln sketching while he waited on his final appointment for the day.

"Need anything before I go?" she asked, pulling on her leather jacket.

"Nah, O said you're bringing dessert tonight?" Lincoln put aside his sketchbook and stood.

"Don't look too worried. I picked it up from the bakery this morning," she admitted sheepishly. Everyone knew her cooking/baking skills were the definition of limited.

Before either could say anything else, Octavia appeared in the doorway. She looked serious, her expressive eyes dark and worried as she crossed the room and gave Lincoln a quick peck on the lips before turning to Clarke.

"I need to talk to you."

"Okay," Clarke was startled, already dreading whatever it was her friend had to say.

"Privately," was directed at Lincoln with an apology in her eyes.

Lincoln looked at his girlfriend, Octavia nodded. Their silent conversation was lost on Clarke, but then Lincoln was leaving the room - the door closing softly behind him.

"Sit," Octavia instructed, taking the seat Lincoln had vacated.

"What's going on O? Is everything okay?" Clarke was starting to get anxious, trying to remember the last time she had seen Octavia look like this.

"There's no easy way to say this," Octavia said finally with a loud sigh. "but I can't avoid it anymore...Bellamy is in Polis."

The tiny gasp escaped unbidden, Clarke's hand moving to cover her mouth. She felt her chest tighten, anxious and terrified.

"Turns out he's Madi's history teacher."

The bombs kept coming.

"He just found out about you being Madi's foster mother, and me still being in contact with you."

Really kept coming...

* * * *

Clarke watched as Madi practically skipped up to the beautiful grey house with its bright white picket fence. It was the epitome of American dream with its perfectly groomed flowerbeds and freshly cut grass. It looked very traditional from the outside, but there was nothing traditional about the inside.

Their little group had been through so much, and they had formed a small family unit, something they all desperately needed. She couldn't give Madi a traditional family, but she could give her love, which was the same thing her small family had given her time and time again.

"Are you okay?"

Madi's worried expression drew Clarke from her musings. "Yeah, just thinking."

She laid a steady hand on the girl's shoulder before Madi barged in ahead of her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd knocked on Octavia's door, the thought bringing a smile to her face.

O was not the type of person to hold with formalities. She was as wild as the wind and marched to the beat of her own drum.

"There you are," Octavia called, waving them in.

Madi made her way through the house passing out hugs and smiling hellos while Clarke ambled in behind her, bakery box in hand. She made her way to the kitchen where Lincoln was leaning against the counter.

With his usual understanding silence, he poured a glass of wine and handed it to her before giving her a one armed squeeze that still engulfed her tiny stature.

Murphy sauntered into the kitchen, an easy smile on his face. He stopped short, growing serious.

"What's happened?" He asked, observing the difference in her mood from when he'd seen her earlier.

Clarke didn't know how to explain, or even what to say. She looked up at Lincoln, begging to be rescued.

"She and Bellamy found out about each other today," he replied, taking his cue.

"Oh," Murphy cringed.

"Guess that covers it," Clarke shook her head, every word dripping with sarcasm.

"No one was sure what to say," Murphy's tone was full of apology.

"It's fine Murphy," Clarke gave a half-hearted smile. "It was just a lot to take in at once."

"It was bound to come up eventually. You're still friends with his sister."

"Seriously John," her use of his first name gave him pause. "It's fine. You're right. It was only a matter of time..."

Murphy shifted awkwardly from foot to foot at a loss for words before Clarke captured his attention again.

"Do you see much of him these days?"

"It was harder after I moved out here," Murphy admitted. "Mostly just group chat and catch ups when I'd go see Raven, Monty, and Harper. We keep saying we'll do drinks, but still haven't gotten around to it."

"Have you heard how Jordan is doing?" Clarke changed the subject.

"I'm told he's cheeky," Murphy grinned. "He always just smiles and laughs at me when he sees me."

"Smart baby," Clarke chuckled.

"The table's ready," Octavia announced, blowing into the kitchen and shooing Lincoln out of her path to the oven. "Let's eat!"

They ambled out to the dinning room, Clarke pausing as her eyes caught on the collage of photos Lincoln and Octavia had been slowly covering one wall with since they had moved in six months ago.

A photo of Christmas Eve eight years past. Ten smiling faces, some topped with Santa hats (or sticks pretending to be reindeer antlers in Jasper's case). Bellamy had one arm around Octavia and the other around Clarke, and any outsider would never know, based on the smiles on their faces, that only a few months before, they'd had a rocky start to their friendship.

*Flashback*

Clarke leaned her head back against the seat in the back of the taxi, her eyes squeezed closed to ward off the over-bright lights on the streets. Her head was pounding, and she couldn't help but give herself an internal lecture for the stupidity of too many cocktails and a random one night stand with some random girl she'd met at the latest Army Mixer.

The damp cold had sobered her up as she'd waited for her cab at 3 am, under-dressed, shivering, and wondering why the November weather had set in two weeks too early. The driver had been none too happy, giving a stiff nod as she told him her address. She'd thought she heard him mumble something about stupid drunk college girls, but the ringing in her ears made it hard to tell for sure. Besides, she didn't have the energy to correct his assumption.

When the cab came to a stop, she dug in her wallet and paid her fare and left a decent tip - the cabby's grunt was her only hint that he was satisfied. She stumbled up the path leading to her door and stopped to fish in her purse for her keys only to find out the door was already unlocked.

"We're so getting robbed one of these days," she grumbled under her breath.

Clarke removed her heels so she could navigate quietly in the dark, making a beeline for the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before heading for the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. She pilfered until she found the aspirin, popping a few of the little white pills in hopes of taking the edge off of the hangover she knew she'd have in the morning.

The house was eerily quiet which surprised her. One of her roommates was usually always up gaming or reading or ushering out their flavour of the night.

She was deep in thought when she ran into a rock solid chest in front of Raven's door. She bounced off with a little shriek of surprise, her unsteady legs betraying her as she plopped on the floor in an unceremonious heap.

Clarke blinked as a light flipped on, a grouchy Murphy standing in his doorway clad only in his boxers. He gave her a gentle glare, before shaking his head and turning back to his room.

"Room with girls they said...It'll be fun they said..." he growled, slamming the door.

Clarke stared down his door before turning her death glare on the man standing above her with a stupid lopsided grin. He was leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets and dark eyes gleaming.

She might have thought him handsome if her head wasn't aching and she wasn't so angry.

"You gonna help me up?" She hissed, trying to ignore the way one of his dark curls fell across his forehead giving her the urge to brush it back.

His hand was warm and calloused as he effortlessly pulled her from the floor. She dusted herself off, her hands going to her hips in a show of irritation.

"No thank you?" His rich baritone made her shiver and she hated him for it.

"I don't really see a reason to thank you for plowing me over in my own home," she huffed.

He laughed softly, irritating her even more.

"Are you laughing at me?" Clarke seethed, her blue eyes sparking with temper.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Princess," he replied with an exaggerated bow.

"GET OUT!"

Clarke watched him as he gave her an amused nod before sliding past her and making his way to the front door. She huffed as the door closed, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration before gently pulling at her hair.

"I'm surrounded by idiots," she mumbled, stalking to her room and dropping face first onto her bed before falling into a restless sleep.

*End Flashback*

* * * *

Even though the night was crisp, Clarke was glad they had chosen to walk the two and a bit blocks to and from Octavia and Lincoln's home.

Madi was happily skipping along a few steps ahead of her, stopping occasionally to take photos on her phone. Madi had as much love for art as Clarke did, and her latest forays included trying to replicate things she had photographed.

It made Clarke smile. How happy and free Madi had become, it was such a startling contrast to the ten year old she had been when they first met five years ago.

Pulling out her own phone, Clarke sent a group message to Octavia, Lincoln, Murphy and Emori.

'Madi's birthday is coming up. Any thoughts on celebration ideas?'

She hadn't even finished putting it back in her pocket when it gave a weird half chirp and went silent.

Her stomach and heart both hitched when she retrieved it and saw the caller ID.

Bellamy Blake.

Chapter Text

Bellamy growled in frustration, letting his head fall where his arms were folded on his desk. He felt like a complete idiot! His day thus far had consisted of trying to shove thoughts of Clarke aside and attempting to grade papers. He had been successful at neither.

Grading that should've only taken a couple of hours had dragged on late into the night. He was tired, but he knew that his mind wouldn't let him rest.

It wasn't that Clarke was so close and he hadn't known, it was that his sister had. It was memories, wonderful memories and painful ones, and the onslaught of questions.

So many questions…

There was one nagging voice in the back of his mind though - the little whisper reminding him that he didn't know her anymore.

The thought that she was still the same now was just as heartbreaking, in theory, as finding her so drastically changed in the six years they'd been separated that perhaps he wouldn't even recognize her anymore.

Bellamy knew he'd changed a lot in the last few years. His career, priorities, and even his temperament had changed some…or maybe he'd just reverted to the far more patient person he'd been before moving to Europe and leaving Octavia behind.

He liked to think he'd just grown up, but then not speaking to his sister for over two years wasn't exactly the most mature thing to do after a pointless fight.

Bellamy took a deep breath and let out a long exhale, trying to make sense of everything. Guilt and hurt warred for dominance, and even after all this time anger still lingered behind it all.

They had all played a part, but it had been so easy to push all of the blame on Clarke since she wasn't there to defend herself. He knew it hadn't been right, but he couldn't help but still think she should've been there.

There was a part of him that couldn't seem to forgive the 22-year-old version of Clarke that had broken his heart in more ways than she would probably ever know. But there was another part of him that missed her - the part that could never hate her and had already begun fighting to forgive her.

They had been so close at one time, and it ate at him that so much time now separated them. He missed being able to text or call whenever he wanted, or having breakfast together at their favorite diner on a Saturday morning.

It had taken years of denial before he'd finally come to grips with the fact that he had lost his best friend. It got to the point that he couldn't even be in the room if someone mentioned her. It hurt too much.

When Madi said Clarke's name it was like she'd opened Pandora's Box. All of the emotions and memories Bellamy had carefully shut away came spilling out, washing over him in waves of hurt and anger.

He hated himself for caring- hated himself even now for reaching for his phone every two seconds like she was actually going to call. He was pathetic and he knew it.

She'd probably changed her number a long time ago, or that was the excuse he came up with every time his thumb ghosted over her contact details in his phone. He wanted so badly to reach out, but he was terrified.

What if he called and she did answer? What would he do then?

Something told him he'd sit there in complete silence, uncomfortable and embarrassed. Unfortunately his finger seemed to move of its own accord and before he knew what was happening the line was ringing.

Bellamy panicked, quickly ending the call and sliding the phone far across the desk. He swore quietly, running a hand up and down the back of his neck where a tension headache was beginning.

He knew he was going to have to speak to her at some point, but now was not the time. Given their current situation, and the fact that he actually liked his job, he would have to be mature about everything and at the very least be civil. Something told him that hashing out the past at this moment wouldn't exactly be the best choice to foster civility.

Accepting that he wasn't going to get anything figured out that night, he shuffled off to his bedroom - shoulders slumped as though the weight of the world balanced precariously upon his back.

He flopped back on his bed fully clothed with a huff as another thought suddenly occurred to him. Murphy had spent plenty of time with Octavia since moving to Polis to be with Emori. It seemed highly improbable that he hadn't come into contact with Clarke at some point over the years.

For all of his faults John Murphy could actually be pretty forgiving, even if he did tend to hold things over a person's head, and he was surprisingly loyal.

Six years ago, Murphy had hidden whatever hurt or anger he had felt about Clarke's leaving behind a heavy veil of even heavier sarcasm, general rudeness, and several poor choices.

Murphy had known Clarke since high school, Raven too, so he had been in a tight spot with the events leading up to Clarke cutting them out of her life. It had been much harder on him than he'd let on, but he'd been the one to suggest contacting Clarke with the news of Jasper's death. He'd also been the only one who had openly expected her to be there. His reaction after the service told Bellamy that he hadn't been the only one to notice Clarke's absence.

Bellamy considered messaging Murphy, but a glance at his bedside clock told him it was after 2am. He groaned, deciding it would have to wait until morning because even if John were awake at this hour he probably wouldn't reply just to be a brat.

His headache was only worsening as he rolled over, and stared out the gaps in the blinds at the murky darkness. He could feel his eyelids beginning to droop and he didn't have the strength to fight sleep as it crowded in.

Then, feeling as if he had only just closed his eyes, Bellamy was jolted awake by the sound of his front door squeaking open, sunlight filtering into his bedroom. He stumbled to his feet in a daze as Echo, his girlfriend of a little over two and a half years, wandered in.

She greeted him with a kiss on the jaw, chuckling at his tousled curls.

"Why do you look worse off than me?"

"Long story," Bellamy sighed, "Let me shower real quick and then we can go out to breakfast."

Echo stopped him with a gentle touch to his forearm.

"Sit and talk to me first," she said softly, tugging him to the bed.

Bellamy's fingers carded through his hair as he took his seat on the edge of the mattress. Echo sat beside him, watching him expectantly. "I don't know what to say," he sighed, falling back on the bed.

He watched as she lay back, nestling in beside him and laying a hand on his chest. Her dark hair fell around her in waves, her dark eyes piercing his soul. That always scared him. He didn't like to think that another person could see so much of him.

Since Clarke, he had been guarded. She'd known him in ways that no one had before or since. She'd slipped into his heart without him noticing and sometimes he hated that he'd not been able to find that level of connection with anyone else. Other times he was glad no one else would see his scars.

The woman before him was beautiful, exotic. He could honestly say that he loved her, but he hadn't let her see the parts of him that Clarke had seen. He didn't let her into his past, only his present.

"Just tell the truth," her soft voice brought him out of his deep thoughts.

"The truth is that my sister has been keeping too many secrets," he huffed, his hands covering his face.

"About Clarke?"

Bellamy sat up at the sound of her name, coming to his feet in agitation. "How do you know about her?"

"Your sister called me. You can imagine my surprise given my usual correspondence with Octavia is abrupt calls and curt texts when she has no other choice. It may have been the most sincere conversation I've ever had with her."

"What did O tell you?"

Echo was slightly taken aback. She'd never heard her boyfriend speak so angrily about his sister. Usually he was steady and even, nothing like the man who paced back and forth before her like a caged tiger.

"Not much," she finally replied softly. "Octavia just said that Clarke had been your best friend until you had some kind of falling out. Now she's in Polis, and she did mention that you might be upset. She sounded pretty worried."

"We haven't spoken in six years," Bellamy said tiredly. "And yeah I'm a little upset."

"You don't have to be friends again, Bellamy." Echo beckoned him back to the bed, patting the spot beside her. "You don't even have to see her if you don't want to."

"It's not that simple." He sat back down, knowing he sounded crazy. Clarke had been like some kind of beacon since he'd first met her. She drew him in. He didn't want to admit to anyone how much he'd missed her or how afraid he was of getting hurt again. It had broken his heart when she'd left, and he didn't know if he could do that again.

"Why?" Echo asked.

"Her foster daughter is in my class, so I'm going to have to run into her at some point," Bellamy replied, massaging the bridge of his nose. "It's not like I can just refuse to meet with her. That's not exactly the most mature thing to do."

Echo watched him closely. She could tell that this woman meant more to him than he was saying. She liked to think that she wasn't a jealous person, but she could feel the dreaded emotion creeping in.

"I know you'll figure something out," she soothed, wanting to change the subject. "Emori called earlier and invited us out with her and John, so why don't we join them and get your mind off of everything?"

Bellamy gave a stiff nod, placing a kiss at the top of her head as he breezed by on his way to the bathroom that adjoined his room. He hoped a hot shower would ease the tension in his shoulders and help him think.

He knew that Murphy would know about Clarke. They'd been friends long before he'd met either of them, so it stood to reason he would know that Clarke was in town. It kind of angered him that everyone seemed to be in on the little secret.

Dressing quickly after his shower, Bellamy reached for his phone as he and Echo headed out the door, internally berating himself for expectantly checking the screen for a missed call.

"Emori said something about a flea market when I talked to her earlier," Echo supplied. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sounds fun." Bellamy forced a smile. "I don't really see Murphy going willingly to something like that though."

"Have you met Emori," Echo laughed. "John never stands a chance in any of their arguments."

Bellamy had to agree with that. Murphy had been more invested in this relationship than he'd ever seen him before. Usually John would get bored, but it seemed Emori kept him on his toes, even after four years together.

Thirty minutes later Bellamy and Echo were walking through a maze of booths selling everything from antique furniture to baseball cards. Vendors were calling out to potential customers at every twist and turn.

When the two couples finally met up, Murphy was pulling a little cart filled with his girlfriend's antiques and had a bag slung over one shoulder.

"Don't say a word," he growled when Bellamy started to laugh.

"I didn't say anything," Bellamy held his hands up in surrender.

"Echo you have to see this antique hutch." Emori grinned, grabbing her friend by the hand and pulling her off into the throng of people.

"Wanna take a walk?" Murphy asked, sensing the other man had something on his mind.

Bellamy fell into step beside him, his eyes wandering over the market with its dust and noise.

"Spit it out." Murphy broke the silence. "I know you've got something bugging you."

"How long have you been in touch with Clarke?" Bellamy cut straight to the point.

"Around three years, give or take. Shortly after I moved to Polis I went to Lincoln for a tattoo and Clarke was working there."

"She's part owner isn't she?" Bellamy guessed hesitantly.

"Ding Ding Ding! We have a winner," Murphy snarked.

Bellamy walked along in silence for a moment, trying to find the words for what he wanted to say next. "So you just forgave her? Just like that," he spoke finally, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Does that sound like me? You know I'm not the most forgiving type Blake," Murphy groused. "First I threw a tantrum. Octavia punched me, and the Princess patched me up. When I had calmed down I asked my questions, Clarke answered them, and then I forgave her."

Bellamy waited for more, but Murphy purposely ignored him.

"That's it?" Bellamy prompted.

"It's not my job to tell you Clarke's life story," Murphy said with a shrug. "I didn't pry into what happened between the two of you."

Bellamy grumbled under his breath, kicking a rock out of his way as they walked. He was so confused and so aggravated that he'd been the last to know that Clarke was not only back, but living in the same town he'd just moved to.

"Is there a reason you didn't tell me you were in touch with her again?" He asked finally, his dark gaze boring into Murphy's much lighter one.

"Probably the same as Octavia," Murphy replied, his eyes never wavering.

"And that would be?" Bellamy growled, trying to rein in the emotions swirling inside his chest.

"We just didn't want her to get hurt again." Murphy shrugged. "I really don't want to get caught in the middle of you two either. I made my decision based on what Clarke had to say, and what Octavia told me later. The only thing I will say is that no matter what is going on between you and Clarke do not let it affect Madi. Clarke is in a good place right now. She and Madi are happy."

"Doesn't keeping O's secret already put you in the middle, John?" Bellamy asked angrily.

"Last time I picked a side I lost contact with my closest friend for three years," Murphy retorted, eyes narrowed. "I'm not a mediator, peace talks are not my thing. So if you and Clarke want to work your shit out that's up to you, not me. And don't go hounding Emori for answers; she only knows what I've told her.

Bellamy watched as Emori and Echo waved from where they were looking at ornate china before turning back to their own conversation.

"Remember what I said Blake. Don't cause trouble for Clarke, and don't think we're going to avoid talking to her or keep her from coming around to save your feelings. How you choose to handle this is your decision because as far as Clarke's concerned she seems willing to see what happens and take her cues from you."

Bellamy nodded, his anger leaving him in a rush. His mind seemed to clear for the first time since he'd found out about Clarke. Her staying friends with his sister meant that she'd known at some point they'd run in to each other.

"One other thing," Murphy said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Raven doesn't need to know about Clarke. She's still holding on to her anger. I don't want her out here making a scene and trying to dig up the past. Not when they just need to stay buried."

"I can respect that," Bellamy replied.

"Good. Now let's go collect our women before Emori spends all of our savings on this dusty junk," Murphy groused.

Bellamy followed, lost in thought about everything his friend had said.

*Flashback*

"Where's Clarke?" Octavia asked the room as she picked a spot on the couch. "Bell, don't sit there!"

Bellamy blinked at her from where he'd half lowered himself onto the armchair.

"But I always sit here."

"It's Clarke's spot, now she's home it would be rude to take her spot." Octavia explained, looking around.

"Clarke!" She was back on her feet, beaming, as the blonde left the bathroom. "This is Bellamy," she introduced excitedly. "Bell this is Clarke, I've been looking forward to introducing the two of you."

Chocolate met sky across the room and Clarke's eyebrows went up, clearly recognising him from the early hours of the morning.

She glanced at Raven who was purposely avoiding eye contact.

"So you're the infamous brother," Clarke smirked. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Same goes," Bellamy moved aside with a flourishing bow. "Your throne Princess." He motioned the armchair.

Clarke narrowed her eyes on him. "Thanks." She made a point of settling into the chair, her eyes not leaving his.

"Is this some kind of weird flirting?" Jasper stage whispered to Monty beside him.

"Hell no!" The pair glared over at Jasper whose eyes widened.

"What are we playing?" Clarke changed the subject.

"We were thinking a few rounds of 'Never Have I Ever' while we play Monopoly." Octavia grinned. "It'll make it more interesting."

"Some of you are underage O." Bellamy frowned at his sister, who pulled a face at him.

"We're all underage here, aside from you and Raven," Octavia retorted, motioning at the seven of them sitting around the coffee table.

Bellamy was opening his mouth to argue when Clarke chimed in.

"Wouldn't you rather your sister be exposed to alcohol in a safe environment where we all care about her well-being and can keep an eye on her, to her going out with her college friends to any number of themed parties currently being thrown by the fraternities?"

Bellamy glared at her. "Stop making so much sense Princess," he grumbled.

"Come on Bell," Octavia pouted adorably at him. "It's just a few rounds that not everyone will even drink for. Trust me, game night is much more fun when you're a little loose."

"I don't want to know how you know that." Bellamy shook his head and accepted the mug of alcohol Raven handed him.

They set up the game board and picked their pieces.

"Whoever is rolling in the game will make their 'Never Have I' statement," Octavia announced. "Let's roll to see who goes first."

Murphy chuckled evilly when he got to play first.

"Never have I ever slept with a Finn," he stated as he moved his piece along the board.

"Is that how it's going to be, John?" Clarke glared as she and Raven drank.

"You swore you would never mention the Finn debacle again!" Raven reached across the board to hit him.

"Who's Finn?" Monty glanced between the three.

The Blakes, Jasper and Monty watched on curiously.

"He was my childhood through high school sweetheart," Raven summed up. "Clarke dated him while we were still together."

Silence reigned.

"I didn't know he had a girlfriend on the other side of town," Clarke huffed, defending herself. "Move on."

Jasper grabbed for the dice. "Never have I ever...kissed a member of the same sex."

Everyone took a sip and the Blake siblings glared at each other in disgust.

"How am I the only one who hasn't done that?!" Jasper gasped, offended.

"Miller's now ex-boyfriend got drunk and made a move on me." Bellamy shrugged.

"Spin the bottle," Monty and Octavia chimed in at the same time.

"Got very drunk and kissed everyone at a party in senior year." Murphy pointed at himself.

"Except us thank God!" Raven stated, clinking cups with Clarke.

"Yeah, well...you kissed each other," Murphy accused with a pout.

"I was curious and Clarke's bi," Raven brushed it off. "Better to experiment with someone you're comfortable with."

"My turn." Monty rolled. "Never have I ever punched anyone."

Everyone but Jasper drank.

"Never have I ever run away from home," Raven stated.

The Blake siblings were the only ones who didn't drink, but Bellamy chuckled at his sister.

"O, you tried to run away when you were six,"

"What? No I didn't!" Octavia frowned.

"Yes you did," Bellamy reminded her. "You were upset because I stopped taking you to my soccer games. I spent three hours scouring the neighbourhood for you afterwards and found you asleep in the tree house next door."

"Sorry Bell." Octavia leaned over Clarke to hug her brother. "I don't even remember that."

"Of course you don't," Bellamy pulled a face at her. "You probably only remember the angelic things you did."

Octavia took a sip of her drink and took her turn rolling. "Never have I ever been arrested." Jasper, Monty and Murphy all lifted their cups.

"Never have I ever had a threesome," Clarke muttered distractedly on her turn.

"Ew, Bell!" Octavia looked horrified as her brother raised his cup to his lips, Jasper and Murphy seemed to look at Bellamy in a new light, which Clarke scoffed at.

The next few statements were innocent enough and soon the drinking game side of their night was forgotten as Bellamy accused Clarke of not paying up on one of his properties and Clarke purposefully bought out the last of a row Bellamy had been intentionally purchasing. The night descended into Clarke and Bellamy trying to short change each other and intentionally screwing with the other person's strategies, to the point where Monty retired to being just the banker and their other friends teamed up against them.

"I just don't get it," Octavia sighed heavily as she and Bellamy headed upstairs later. "I really thought the two of you would get along."

"I think we got on just fine," Bellamy sniffed with a smirk.

"Please tell me Jasper was wrong and that wasn't some weird new method of flirting," his sister's eyes widened in horror.

"No," Bellamy stressed. "Why's it so important to you that we get along."

"Those three people are each other's family Bell, they pretty much only have each other. Not like with Monty and Jasper, whose parents are there for them to go home to." Octavia turned serious. "I really think we can have a place with them. Don't you think it would be nice to have an honest to God family for a change?"

Bellamy's heart thumped unsteadily and he reached to pat his sister on the head affectionately.

"They can be family even if we don't all get along," he summed up, but silently promised himself he would try for his sister's sake.

*End Flashback*

Chapter Text

The ebb and flow of brush against canvas, or in this case wall, was familiar and soothing. Her stress trying to leave her like a long exhale. Her zone of absolute calm was calling to her...but the nagging presence at the corner of her eye made her purse her lips and turn.

"Madi, please, stop hovering," it blew Clarke's mind sometimes how well Madi knew her and how much she worried.

With a pout, Madi pointed out the obvious. "You're painting walls again Clarke. When have you ever done that just because?"

"I've owned this house for four years, don't you think it's past time I painted the wall of my own bedroom?" Clarke chuckled, adding another brushstroke to the large flower she was in the process of enameling onto the wall her bed usually butted up against.

"I'm sorry I told Bellamy about you." Clarke inhaled sharply at Madi's words, her heart skipping a beat. "I got excited when I realised who he was."

"It's fine Madi, it isn't your fault."

"I hate when you say things are fine!" Madi narrowed her eyes and sprawled out on Clarke's bed with an exasperated huff Clarke still couldn't help but think looked adorable. "It's what you say when you aren't actually fine."

"He's a good teacher, right?" Clarke made eye contact with her daughter, hoping against hope she could turn her daughter's thoughts away from the object of her current underlying apprehensive state.

"The best...and not just because he's the best looking teacher we have," Madi leaned up on her elbows so Clarke couldn't miss the sly grin.

There was no way Clarke could avoid laughing at that comment. "Come over here and help me?" She requested with a shake of her head.

Madi lit up and hurried to pick up a brush as if Clarke would change her mind.

Half an hour later they heard a key in the lock and a baritone called out to them, bringing instant relief with it for Clarke. Madi announced their location so it could be heard from downstairs and a few moments later Roan appeared in the doorway.

"What happened?" his intense crystal blue gaze narrowed on the paintbrushes in their hands.

"Oh for God's sake," Clarke huffed, her hand finding a place on her hip, an action that only ended up annoying her further when she realised she had smeared paint on herself in the process. "I'm an artist. Why does everyone assume something is wrong when I paint on a wall?"

"Because we all know you Blondie, walls suffer when things get you worked up," Roan teased with a husky chuckle and moved to wrap his arms around her waist, squeezing affectionately. "Hey kid," he belatedly greeted Madi with a fist bump.

"Did you get the bad guys?" Madi tuned in excitedly, ever fascinated by Roan's job as a detective with the Azgeda Province Police Department.

"You bet," Roan winked at her. "Made our arrests last night and I've been swimming in paperwork all morning so if you want to put the brushes away maybe the three of us want to go out for dinner to celebrate?"

"What about your team?" Clarke couldn't help the concerned frown. Cops were all about celebrating with their squad - at least in her experience - much as the army had been, and Roan usually went out drinking with them as soon as a big case was finished...and Clarke was not up to dealing with a crowd of cops tonight.

"We're doing drinks after shift tomorrow night if you want to come?"

"You should go Clarke. I have soccer training and then I'm babysitting for the Sheppard's next door," Madi offered up, excited on her mother's behalf.

Roan chuckled. "You have your daughter's permission. Now, what do you want for dinner?"

"Don't say the Cheesecake Factory," Clarke waved the paintbrush to point at her in warning.

Madi pouted. "Pizza?" she asked hopefully instead.

"There's that new place serving deep dish pizzas," Roan suggested, scarred eyebrow raised at Clarke.

"Fine, fine," she sighed. "Let me pack up and change."

"But you look great Blondie."

Clarke glanced down at her paint stained overalls and shot him a glare as he retreated with a laugh. As she dropped her brushes in water and replaced the lids on her paints, Clarke's mind began to wander.

**Flashback**

She was so focused on the silhouette of the tree she was painting that the sound of a throat being loudly cleared over her blaring music jolted her enough to smear a thick line where it shouldn't have been. Sitting cross legged on the ground didn't make for the most dramatic spin, so she twisted and sent her darkest glare at Bellamy Blake, standing in Octavia's bedroom doorway, his own murky gaze narrowed at her artwork.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, switching off her tunes. With his arms crossed over his chest, legs braced apart and livid expression, Bellamy could have given any of the soldiers in her unit a run for their money in the intimidating department.

Too bad for him that she wasn't that easy to intimidate. "I might ask you the same thing," she retorted, heat in her voice. "Look what you made me do!"

"Why are you painting on my sister's wall?!" Bellamy ignored her. "I am not paying to have this repainted-"

"Chill out, we got permission from the landlord," Clarke cut him off, turning back to try to save the trees, mumbling under her breath about grumpy old men.

He was unusually silent for a few minutes and it unnerved her enough to have her peeking back over her shoulder. "Are you just going to stand there staring?"

"Sorry," he rubbed at the back of his neck with a sigh, taking in what appeared to be a misty mountain range in ombre shades starting off white and fading into a deep green at the floor, where Clarke was painting her shadowy forest. "It's nice."

"Thanks for that glowing endorsement," she muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes even though he couldn't see it. "What are you doing here anyway? Octavia said you weren't arriving until the day before Thanksgiving."

"I managed to get a few extra days off from training and wanted to surprise O," he was still staring at the wall, now wearing a thoughtful expression, and it was making her feel defensive...Bellamy Blake always seemed to make her feel like she had to have her guard up. "Where is my sister anyway?" It was said in an offhand manner but was probably what he had really cared most about all along.

"Working on an assignment I think, she's heading out with the gang later and wanted to get a little extra done first,"

Bellamy eyed her suspiciously. "What kind of going out?"

Clarke just shrugged and turned away from him.

"You aren't going with them?"

Her entire body went tense and she froze for a few seconds before she shoved the tidal wave that was her emotions back down and started painting again.

"Not today," she responded curtly. "Can you turn the music back on on your way out?"

Music filtered back through the speakers, turned down more than she would have liked, leaving her acutely aware of Bellamy shuffling around in the room next door. "What are you listening to?" he called through the wall.

"The Goo Goo Dolls."

"The who?" he popped his head back around the door frame. "Never heard of them," he confessed after she had repeated herself.

Clarke was on her feet in seconds, switching the song to Iris.

"Oh," his eyes lit in recognition. "I know this song."

"Everybody knows this song," she sniffed, changed the song again at the same instant they heard the door fly open and she looked up in time to see Octavia basically fly through the air and into Bellamy with such force he stumbled back a couple of steps.

"Hey O," Bellamy's chuckle and the sudden softening of his features sent a strange shiver down Clarke's spine.

If she had ever been in doubt of how much the Blake siblings actually cared about each other, this moment absolutely shot it to hell. But her friends were her family now, Clarke reminded herself, trying not to slip into a dark place and went back to her spot on the floor, dipping her brush back into the paint, praying for the calm she normally found when she painted.

Slipping back into the zone caused her to lose her sense of time, so when she set her brush aside and stretched out her back, she was surprised to notice that dusk had fallen outside.

Quiet noises from the kitchen filtered through to her and she went to investigate, finding Bellamy stirring one pot while another covered pot bubbled away. He spotted her from the corner of his eye and looked up, pushing the glasses back up his nose causing Clarke to freeze for a moment again as a stray thought noticed how cute he looked with glasses before she forcefully shoved it away.

"Are you going to stand there and stare, Princess?" he paraphrased her earlier words with a smirk, causing Clarke to roll her eyes at him.

"If you don't want food poisoning you'd better not let me anywhere near your food," she commented dryly.

"You'd poison me?" he looked startled.

"It's not optional, or personal," Clarke snickered. "I can't cook, and if you tell me it's just a matter of following a recipe I might actually help, just to prove to you how untrue that is."

The smirk widened to a grin and then he was chuckling. "Fine, fine, give me ten minutes and I'll serve you like a true princess."

Clarke huffed - she should have known he'd continue to be an ass - and made to leave.

"Clarke, wait," it was strange how much it startled her to hear him use her name. He always seemed to call her Princess in that snarky tone of voice that set her teeth on edge. "I'm sorry, it was supposed to be a joke," the genuine note in his voice gave her pause and she glanced back.

"I'm really not in a joking mood today."

"Yeah, sorry," Bellamy ran his fingers through already messy curls and rubbed at the back of his neck. "When I decided not to go out with the gang, O told me to just leave you be...but I figured you still had to eat. Right?"

Clarke's eyes widened a little as the bottom of her stomach dropped out. "She told you what today was?"

"No," Bellamy frowned at her, shaking his head.

"Okay," she let out a little breath of relief, hand hovering over the erratic fluttering in her chest.

While he finished cooking, she set out two places at the tiny dining table and soon enough they were sitting down to eat.

Clarke hadn't been hungry, but when the sauce through the pasta hit her tongue she gave a little moan of appreciation and Bellamy's eyes widened on hers, food halfway to his mouth. "It's good," she mumbled around her food.

One corner of his lips quirked up and he bashfully lowered his head. "It's just Bolognese," he muttered, bringing the pasta to his own mouth.

"Well, some of us only get home cooked food when Murphy binges Gordon Ramsay, so just take the compliment," at her snarky comment, Bellamy huffed out a laugh and they ate in silence for a while.

After the meal Clarke took over the washing up and just as she was scrubbing the pot, she felt the sudden urge to talk to Bellamy Blake, someone who, on a normal day, she could barely stand to be in a room with. She shook her head at herself and scrubbed harder, glancing at him from the corner of her eye where he was wiping down the table. It was a moment of weakness surely? Brought on by seeing the care she had seen in his eyes when he had greeted Octavia earlier.

"It's my Dad's anniversary today," she told him, dropping the objects into the sink to lean more heavily at the side. "Six years."

Bellamy turned to face her, sorrow in his eyes and his lips twisted into a sympathetic frown. "I'm so sorry Clarke. I can't even imagine what that's like."

"Everyone told me it was supposed to get easier," she confessed. "And day to day does. But today, today I always just need to be alone and distracted."

He nodded, sympathy visible in the twist of his lips and the furrow of his brow. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head and went back to the dishes. Talking about it meant risking breaking down.

There was a moment of quiet and then Bellamy spoke hesitantly. "O and I have different fathers. We didn't know either one of them. I was the product of our mum sleeping her way through Asia on a backpacking tour before she started her Freshman year of college," he tugged on a curl awkwardly and then leaned back against the side of the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "And I've never told O but hers was our mum's boss at the time, he was older, married and had four kids. The closest I ever had to a father figure was our maternal grandfather, he and our grandmother were responsible for me until our mum finished college, then they retired to Florida. O never met them."

"And your mum?" Clarke wondered. "Octavia has never said anything about her."

"She loved us, and when she was around we had her undivided attention. But we were left alone more often than kids that age should have been," Bellamy scratched at the back of his neck, staring blankly at the floor. "She wanted to be a fashion designer and having two kids at home got in the way of that. I can't pinpoint when it started but I noticed her alcohol abuse while I was in high school. She took off sometime around O's eighteenth birthday and the worst part about that statement is that O didn't even notice until almost a week later."

They stood in silence while Clarke mulled over what he had divulged. "What would you have done if you had gone to college?" she suddenly asked.

Bellamy froze, deer in headlights style. "I don't think anyone has ever asked me that. College was never an option for me if I wanted it to be an option for O," he admitted and Clarke's heart broke a little more. "A teacher," he finally stated. "A history or literature teacher."

"With your hot head?" Clarke snickered.

"Believe it or not I used to be a lot more patient," Bellamy rolled his eyes at her, but a little smile lifted the corners of his lips in a subtly charming way.

Clarke hesitated briefly before deciding it was unfair to leave him the only one making confessions that clearly made him uncomfortable. "I wanted to study art," she told him, squeezing the edge of the counter until she couldn't feel her fingers. "I didn't know what I wanted to do with it, just that I loved everything about it. My dad was all about supporting everything I wanted to do."

"Yet you ended up a medic in the army somehow?" Bellamy appeared adorably confused by this.

"It's a long story that starts with both my parents having come from old money. The difference being my dad didn't want to get richer, he wanted to serve his country. He was a mechanical engineer, one of the best, but Mum was a surgeon and after she had me she wanted to keep her crazy hours so Dad stopped doing tours and eventually left the army altogether to join a local Arcadian firm. Jaha Engineering."

Bellamy jolted. "As in Thelonius Jaha? Disgraced former mayor of Arkadia?"

"That's the one," Clarke nodded. "The Jaha's were old family friends."

"So you're basically actually a princess?" he seemed mildly horrified by this revelation.

Clarke's hackles rose. "Because my parents were privileged? Do you want me to keep going or not?" she stressed and Bellamy had the decency to flush with embarrassment. "Their son Wells was my best and only friend until I was thirteen and the first corruption scandal broke," she went on. "My dad went to jail for embezzlement even though he was innocent."

"I think I remember that."

"Jaha somehow pinned it on my dad and the worst part was my mum believed him enough to turn my dad in."

"That's horrible Clarke."

"Yeah well," she rubbed her fingers against her sternum as if rubbing at an old scar. To this day talking about her father's unfair end left a feeling of a knife twisting in her heart. "It ended with my dad being killed in prison a year later and my relationship with my mother continuing to spiral out of control. Especially when Jaha was found out a few years later and fled the country, too late to save my dad though."

"Did you patch things up with your mum?"

"Not even close," Clarke shook her head sadly. "I was so mad at her through my teen years, and in typical Mum fashion, anything I said or did outside of her expectations was a rebellion," she snorted. "When I came out and told her I was bisexual she actually called it part of my rebellious phase. College was the final straw in our messed up relationship. Mum had control of my college fund, and it became I go to medical school or the money would be taken away." Clarke levelled a glare at the floor. "The amount I care to receive ultimatums is microscopic. So I joined the army and I haven't spoken to my mother since."

"And so you paint people's walls," Bellamy teased, trying to ease the sorry atmosphere.

A small smile twitched at her lips. "Painting clears my head," she admitted. "It's for when I have something on my mind."

"Have you finished O's wall? You're welcome to mine if you need an outlet," he offered earnestly.

Her smile grew a little and Clarke couldn't help but soften towards him. "You aren't so bad Bellamy," she chuckled. "When you aren't being an ass."

He grinned impishly. "You aren't so bad yourself Princess."

It gave her pause, the way the nickname seemed to suddenly hold a different tone to previously, and she found she didn't mind it so much anymore.

**End Flashback**

That evening, after Madi had gone to bed, Clarke curled up against Roan on the couch with her sketchbook while he watched a basketball rerun.

When her sketch, originally intended to be of Madi while she played soccer, morphed into Bellamy back in his professional soccer days, her pulse skyrocketed and she panicked. It took seconds to tear the page out, scrunch it up and throw it over the back of the couch. Of course she then realised the overreaction was more telling than accidentally drawing him when he had yesterday moved to a more prominent place at the back of her mind. She sighed dejectedly to herself. How was she supposed to cope with seeing him again if she couldn't even control her anxiety when it reared its ugly head?

"Need to talk about what's going on?" Roan's voice broke through her silent recriminations.

"Octavia's brother moved to town," Clarke summarised, dispirited. "He's teaching Madi."

"Is he an ex?"

"No, but I was closer to him than O in the early days until we had a falling out."

"Part of the Trikru era then?"

Clarke just nodded.

"Is him being in Polis some kind of issue?"

"I just haven't spoken to him in six years. Even staying friends with Octavia and reconnecting with Murphy, the fact that we were in Polis and he was back in Arkadia meant that I didn't have to constantly be reminded of how badly I screwed up."

"Always blaming yourself Blondie," Roan heaved a sigh, resigned. "It takes two people to have a fight."

"But I wasn't myself at the time."

Roan just made a noise in his throat. "Still hurting over it?"

"I'm not sure I'll ever not hurt over it," she paused briefly. "He really got on my nerves at first but somewhere along the way I got to know him and we really connected. He seemed to understand me, or maybe he just accepted me as I was."

"Your other friends didn't?"

"It just wasn't the same," Clarke frowned at him, frustrated with herself for not being able to put the feeling into words even after so many years. "I still can't describe it, or even how it's different to my connections with other people." She let out a breath of discontent and tried again. "I used to think that it was what people meant when they talked about platonic soulmates. He just got me. Saw all my flaws and past my armour and stood beside me anyway. I'd known Raven and Murphy for years already and neither of them could do that."

"What about me then?" Roan raised an eyebrow at her, a somewhat teasing smirk taking over his face. "I think I know you pretty well."

"For starters, we may be friends, but I'm sleeping with you," Clarke returned the teasing, thankful for the instant lightening of the mood. "But mainly, you know me now. The things we've lived through have changed me and you make those changes much easier to live with. You know where they came from and don't question why I sometimes act abnormally."

"I suppose I never realised that there's more to your past then you've told me," Roan frowned thoughtfully.

"Most of those scars were hidden under the newer ones," she admitted. "So I guess a part of me felt like I didn't need to go into great detail about them. You know the basics, after all, and most of them have healed."

"Yet somehow this is the first I've heard about Octavia's brother or you being friends with him." This was the good thing about Roan, from anyone else this statement would have been a demand for an explanation, but from him, his tone told her it was simply a curious observation.

"In the last four years alone I've officially become Madi's foster mother, made up with Murphy, finally found something that resembles a stable relationship with my mother, and accepted that even if we meet again Raven and I will probably never be on steady ground again," Clarke paused for a moment, looking for the right words, her heart pinching uncomfortably.

"Octavia's brother is the exception to everything, right?"

Clarke's gaze moved sharply to his. "It was the one that hurt the most to lose and the one that will always hurt going forward because I knew the more time stretched on after our fight that no matter what it could never have been the same again. Now that I'm not going to be able to avoid him..."

"It will continue to hurt because sometimes you don't stop missing a person," Roan spoke softly.

"Sometimes I forget you're actually pretty smart," Clarke chuckled, teasing him. "And then you go and say something like that and I remember you're better at reading people than anyone I know."

Roan chuckled and shook his head at her. "Let's go," he took her hand and pulled her to her feet, leading her to the stairs.

"Where are we going?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he shot her a flirtatious look over his shoulder. "I'm going to take your mind off things for a while."

Clarke was smiling as she followed him.

Chapter Text

"Don't say it," Clarke muttered darkly, staring out the window of Murphy's truck. The interior reeked of cheap cologne, and if she'd had any other alternative she would have taken it in a heartbeat. He was doing her a favour though since her car was in his shop…again…

"Well I'm going to say it anyway. Would it kill you to get an oil change every once in a while! It's no wonder you said it was making strange noises."

She glared at him through the dimness of his truck, her blue eyes shooting daggers. "I'm keeping you in business John."

Murphy scoffed at the first name they all knew he hated hearing from anyone but Emori. Clarke only used it in moments like these when she was trying to get a point across to him. With a shake of her head she went back to staring out the window, street lights passing in a blur.

Her day had started out completely normal. Roan had left the house on time, Madi had no fashion conundrums, and she had even managed to keep her coffee in the cup instead of all over her clothes. However, her mood had soured at work. She'd been sketching between clients and soon realized that every single one consisted of dark curls and moody eyes. Lincoln had watched on intently as she'd crumpled up her drawings and violently shoved them into the trash. His gaze had been worried, but upon seeing her seething glare he'd immediately thrown up his hands in surrender; refusing to remark on what he'd just seen. Then everything got ten times worse when her car refused to start and Murphy had to come and pick her up while one of his guys towed her car to the shop.

"Why did this have to be tonight," Clarke whined, throwing her head back.

"I'm not the one who invited you. The mood you're in I wouldn't invite you anywhere." Murphy's dry reply brought her head around, but he didn't even shrug. He was like that though. For all of her ire and spite he never backed down. His sarcastic personality was just what she needed sometimes because he didn't let her wallow.

"Here's my stop."

"Finally," Murphy breathed. "Get out!"

Clarke just laughed, grabbing for her purse. "You know you love me."

Murphy glared at her wink, shaking his head and muttering under his breath something about loving her to death.

As he drove away, Clarke marched towards the entrance of Ice Nation Pub. It was a favorite hangout for local officers, and a place that she and Roan came to often.

The faint scent of cigarette smoke mingled with that of freshly baked pizza and washed over her as she walked through the front door, her eyes scanning the bar for Roan before finally catching his gaze. She smiled and began to make her way over to him, when she saw a dark head of curls she would know anywhere. Her steps faltered, Roan's eyes holding a hint of concern. Clarke made a slashing motion, pointing to the restroom before making a mad dash for the back of the pub. The door banged closed behind her as she practically fell against one of the sinks and tried to catch her breath.

A familiar numbness began to spread through her veins and she finally looked up, groaning when she got a good look at her reflection, her hair falling in messy waves to her shoulders. She wished she'd changed out of her work clothes. The black tee sporting the shop logo paired with her black skinny jeans and heeled boots made her look like some edgy teen with an axe to grind. Her only saving grace was her ever-present leather jacket and the lipstick she knew was buried at the bottom of her purse.

She was in a daze as she pulled her phone out with the pale pink lipstick, and called Octavia.

"What's up?"

"Is Bell-" her throat constricted on his name, so she cleared it and forced herself to continue on. "Is your brother dating a cop?"

"Yes," Octavia replied hesitantly. "Why?"

Clarke was silent, her brain refusing to articulate a response.

Octavia swore. "Azgeda Province," she swore again. "Does Echo know Roan somehow?"

"Looks like it," Clarke wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.

"Where are you?"

"In the bathroom at Ice Nation's...turns out I'm not so sure I can face him."

"Listen up bestie," Octavia's voice turned scolding. "You are Clarke Griffin. You are a badass who has faced death and destruction and survived mostly in tact. Suck it up and get out there. You are both adults and if all else fails Roan will have your back."

"Right," Clarke sucked in a deep breath. "I'm a grown woman."

"Yes you are!" Clarke was pretty sure she could hear laughter in O's voice.

"Thanks O,"

"Talk to you later," Octavia signed off.

Clarke closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She gave herself one more quick once over, running a shaking hand through her hair before squaring her shoulders. She wouldn't let him see her squirm.

Chin held high, Clarke exited the bathroom and found that Roan had moved to the end of the bar nearest to the bathrooms, waiting patiently for her. Her eyes drifted to where Bellamy stood making conversation with one of Roan's best officers, Echo, her hand secured in his.

From this vantage point she could study him unnoticed. He looked older. His jaw shadowed with an overgrowth of stubble that one might call a beard. His form was no longer long and lean, but larger - muscular. There wasn't the old cockiness in his stance; instead he seemed calm and grounded somehow.

Her gaze drifted from Bellamy to his date. Echo was quite possibly the most attractive woman Clarke had ever seen Bellamy with, and that was saying something. Glancing down at her attire again, she couldn't help feeling a tiny bit inferior.

But she took one last deep breath as Roan straightened to greet her. She braced herself, plastered on a smile, and just put one foot in front of the other.

* * * * * *

Bellamy subconsciously glanced over when someone called a greeting to a new arrival and promptly choked on his sip of beer.

He'd know Clarke anywhere.

Looking as fierce as ever, her blonde hair cropped short and wavy, all in black, and heading to the bar.

"Bellamy?" there was concern evident in Echo's voice at his spluttering and coughing, and he wanted to turn to her, he really did, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off Clarke.

Who walked right up to the arrogant ass of a lead detective that Echo served under.

"Bellamy?" it was more insistent this time causing Bellamy to blink.

Nope. Clarke was still there and being greeted with an intimate press of lips against lips.

His stomach dropped. He had only come out with Echo tonight in a vain attempt to take his mind off of Madi being on the girl's soccer team, which he was now wishing he hadn't agreed to coach, and the underlying meaning that he would presumably also be seeing Clarke at her games. Now Clarke was here in front of him, only two days after he had found out she lived in the same city and long before he was in any state of readiness to see her again.

The universe really wasn't happy with him at the moment.

A hand waved in front of his eyes and he physically jolted. He glanced at Echo, eyes wide, but drawn immediately back to Clarke.

"It's Clarke," his voice hitched on her name.

Echo's gaze followed his. "Roan's Clarke is-?"

"My-" Bellamy inhaled sharply. She wasn't his anything. "She's Clarke," he settled on.

"Well that's unexpected," Echo stated. "I know Clarke. I like Clarke. Anyone who can handle Roan is someone worth knowing," there was a joke in her voice, but Bellamy was still struggling to remove his eyes from the one person he had once barely managed to convince himself he would never see again.

"So she and Roan...?" he really should have been able to finish his sentence, despite the sick feeling the question gave him.

"She's been coming around as Roan's plus one pretty much since he joined the squad five years ago," Echo informed him. "They were army buddies. We don't know when exactly, but somewhere in the last couple of years they actually became a thing."

Bellamy stood in silence, mind blank, he wasn't sure for how long, feeling strangely numb until Echo tugged on his hand for his attention.

"Do you want to go say hi?" Echo wondered, concern shadowing her eyes when she finally managed to pull his attention to her.

"I..." he trailed off, glancing back to the bar, completely unsure as to how he wanted to proceed. Actually seeing her again had completely disrupted all his previous thoughts and feelings on the matter. Clarke and Roan were still there, leaning into each other as they spoke, and equal parts of him wanted to intrude and completely avoid them at the same time. Roan took Clarke's leather jacket and bag as a beer was passed over to her and then the choice was taken away from him as she turned and eyes the colour of a bright, clear sky met his, even more vivid than his memories had allowed.

A sense of familiarity and rightness, of serenity and lightheartedness washed over him. Her eyes never left his as she came over and the tentative smile on her face had the past threatening to overflow from where Bellamy had kept it tightly locked away in one corner of his mind.

"Bellamy," hearing her say his name, her voice huskier than he could recall, sent a shock through his system.

The years fell away for a moment and he felt the beginnings of a smirk pull at his lips, but then her eyes shifted off him to the woman at his side and there was only a gaping emptiness. "It's Echo, isn't it?"

"Seems it really is a small world," Echo spoke with a small, amicable smile.

"You know each other?" Roan glanced between Bellamy and Clarke.

Clarke looked up, meeting Roan's eyes. "We do."

"Oh?" Roan's scarred eyebrow raised up, curiosity in the phrase.

"Bellamy is Octavia's older brother," Clarke supplied.

"Oh," Roan glanced back at Bellamy, scanning him from head to toe quickly, and his tone now had Bellamy's hackles rising, the idea of Roan somehow knowing their business rankled him. There was a moment of yawning silence while Roan scanned Clarke's face, looking for something.

"I understand you're fostering one of Bellamy's students?" Echo tried to break up the quiet.

"Yes, Madi," Clarke immediately lit up at the mention of her daughter, in a way Bellamy had never seen, her smile a combination of beaming, proud and bashful.

"How great is that kid though," Roan winked at Clarke, though the question was clearly directed at Bellamy.

"She's really great," Bellamy agreed, watching the way the corners of Clarke's smile softened into genuine fondness.

"Clarke's doing fantastic with her," Roan hugged Clarke closer to his side, grinning proudly down at her. "She's such a happy kid these days."

"Speaking of Madi," Clarke turned her face back to Roan. "She wanted you to text her what time you're leaving tomorrow to see if she can get a lift in the morning."

"Your tin can in the shop again?" Roan teased.

Clarke rolled her eyes at him. "I love my car thank you very much."

Roan chuckled at her and took a sip of his beer. "Where's she need to be? I'll take her."

"Tuesday morning is swim squad," Clarke seemed to remember suddenly where they were and apologised to the couple across from them.

The simple domesticity of their conversation seemed to be sucking all the air out of Bellamy's lungs.

"I swear Blondie," Roan shook his head at Clarke, still chuckling. "If your mechanic was anyone other than Murphy, they would have told you to give up on that car years ago."

Clarke glanced at Bellamy at the mention of Murphy and he couldn't help the slightly bitter twist he felt tug at his lips. "I know you guys hang out," he told her.

A shadow that Bellamy thought might be caution flashed through her eyes and his stomach sank when it occurred to him he might not be reading her as easily as he once had. His hand squeezed on his beer bottle as he struggled for something coherent to say, something that didn't show his inner struggles.

"Well, we should all mingle," Roan clinked the neck of his beer bottle to Bellamy's, then Echo's and nudged Clarke into a faint farewell before they moved off.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Echo nudged Bellamy lightly, teasingly, and a small, dark voice popped to the forefront of Bellamy's mind, asking if Echo really knew him at all, before he shoved the darkness away - none of this was Echo's fault and he wouldn't lash out at her like some teenager.

"I'd classify it as a mild disaster, actually," he murmured, his eyes drifting over to where Clarke now had her back to him, and something in him sank a little more when he saw Roan drop a quick kiss to Clarke's hairline.

* * Flashback * *

The nagging tune of his FaceTime app pierced through his dreamless sleep and Bellamy let out a heavy sigh.

A one-eyed squint at the clock read the time as 3:30am and a noise that was a cross between a groan and a sob came out of his throat. An hour. One more hour until he needed to be awake for the morning's training.

The tune became more insistent and Bellamy pushed himself up to reach for his glasses, pulling his phone over with them. Dread instantly twisted in his gut when Clarke's name came into focus on the screen.

Since thanksgiving, their contact with each other had consisted of liking - and occasionally commenting on - each other's social media photos, memes sent through messenger, and once she'd greeted him over his sister's shoulder while they were having a video call, but Clarke had never outright contacted him.

He hit the answer icon and saw nothing but ceiling, causing the dread to sink straight into terror.

"Clarke?!" his voice was a demand. The only response he got was some shuffling and a thud followed by swearing. He broke out in a cold sweat as he called her name again.

"Sorry, sorry!" the video whirled briefly before her face came into focus. "Why's it so dark?"

"What? Oh," Bellamy flicked on his reading lamp, blinking against the sudden brightness. "Are you okay?" her eyes looked misty, but he couldn't immediately see anything out of the norm.

"I stubbed my toe," she pouted adorably, something he might have appreciated as being cute if his heart wasn't still racing.

Bellamy was silent for a moment. "Please don't tell me you called me so early because you stubbed your toe!" he couldn't keep the harsh tone out of his voice. "I swear Clarke, you just took years off my life!"

"Early?" she looked confused, then horrified. "Did I mix up the times?" she seemed to fiddle with her phone for a moment. "Shit, Bell, I'm so sorry."

His almost calmed heart rate skipped alarmingly at the shortening of his name. "It's fine Clarke," he sighed heavily, rubbing his hand over his face, dislodging his glasses in the process. "Just tell me nothing is wrong, please?"

"Octavia is fine," she was quick to assure him and a little pang of surprise followed by guilt passed through him as he realised he hadn't even thought it could be related to his sister.

"What about you Clarke? Are you alright?"

"I'm good," but her eyebrows drew together slightly.

Bellamy let out a long exhale and became acutely aware of how tense he had been, something he would have to put aside to consider later. "What's happened Princess?" he prompted after a stretch of silence and his insides gave a peculiar jolt when she suddenly started beaming at him.

"Should I let you go back to sleep? I really didn't mean to wake you."

"No," he groaned. "You'll just have to entertain me for the next hour instead, as punishment. Now please Princess, tell me why you woke me."

She gave a little giggle and then shook her head at him. "I was calling to tell you I figured out your secret," a mischievous glint entered her blue eyes.

"My secret?" Bellamy's eyebrows rose. "What secret? Are you drunk or something?"

"You're a total nerd, and I may be a little tipsy," Clarke declared followed by a sheepish grin. "I found your books. Most guys hide their dirty mags under their beds, you can't imagine my surprise when I found comics and history books instead."

"Why were you looking for dirty magazines under my bed?" his brain seemed to have gotten stuck on that one comment.

"I wasn't," she pulled a face at him. "Focus Bellamy. Why are you hiding your books in boxes under your bed?"

"Just haven't unpacked them yet," he tried for, but her face clearly told him she wasn't buying it.

Bellamy carded his fingers through his already sleep tousled hair and took a deep breath. "I told you about our mum," Clarke nodded her affirmation. "It doesn't take much to imagine that money was tight on what was primarily a retail salary. We lived out of apartments my whole life and more often than not O and I shared a room. There was never space for my books so they lived under my bed, and after I moved over here and Mum and O downsized, they lived under O's bed."

"Downsized?" Clarke sounded a little choked.

"I refused to give Mum any of the money I was earning over here, so she made sure to get an apartment that didn't have space for a third bed," Bellamy admitted. "I slept on the pull-out couch in the living room whenever I was visiting."

Clarke continued to frown at him for a while. "I don't know what to say to that," she finally confessed.

"Most people ask why I wouldn't give my mum any money," Bellamy's mouth twisted bitterly.

"I would assume you didn't want her to waste it on booze," she commented dryly. "I also assume you did let Octavia have access to your money."

"Smart Princess," it made Bellamy smile again, her instant belief that he wasn't being selfish, and he was reminded that her own mother had basically used money as a form of blackmail.

"While we're on the subject," Clarke rolled her eyes with a huff. "I love your sister, she's amazing, but she'd make a great con-woman."

"What now?" Bellamy was startled and a little offended.

Clarke laughed and his mood instantly lightened. "I can't prove it yet but I swear she rigged our Kris Kringle draw."

Octavia had sent him an email about it and suddenly Bellamy knew exactly what Clarke was trying to tell him. "You have me? That explains why you're snooping around my room."

"You're not going to try and deny that she didn't just give you me, are you?"

He started chuckling but was laughing in seconds. "No way she pulled that off on her own, I'd say everyone but us was in on it, even if it was O's idea."

Clarke shook her head at him, laughing lightly. "Which brings us back to you being a nerd. I thought I could just get you some kind of history book, but your collection is so varied I have less of an idea than when I started out. And I never pegged you for superhero comics, don't even try to tell me it's because of the Avengers movement," she glared at him. "Or I will slap you next time I see you."

His cheeks heated enough that Bellamy really hoped it wasn't obvious on her tiny phone screen. "It's the mythology of them that appeals to me."

The laugh that came out of her next sent a shiver down his spine. "Now that is something only a nerd would say," she insisted, smiling broadly even as he pouted at her. "In all seriousness, is there something you want, because you seem to have everything but Harry Potter here," she shot him a little glare. "If you tell me you don't like Harry Potter, this budding friendship of ours may have to be over."

A little jolt of alarm shot through him even as he was feeling mushy over the 'budding friendship' comment. "We're friends?" he wondered, sounding awestruck even to himself.

"Aren't we?" the little furrow appeared between her eyebrows again. "Did I completely misread the situation?"

"I don't exactly advertise my shitty childhood, Princess, I just didn't want to assume," Bellamy admitted, a somewhat dopey feeling consuming him as he smiled gently at her. "I wasn't sure if you still didn't like me or not."

"Murphy is an asshole more often than not and I'm still friends with him," the phone moved with Clarke's shrug. "But you changed the subject."

"Did I? From what?"

"Harry Potter,"

A lopsided grin split his lips. "You really think I wouldn't like Harry Potter, given everything else you would have seen in my collection?"

"I knew it," Clarke grinned triumphantly. "Let me guess, you're a Gryffindor," she rolled her eyes at him.

"What makes you think that?"

"Courage, daring, a little reckless and short-tempered, sounds like a Gryffindor to me. Everyone always seems to want to be red and gold."

"I'll have you know I would have been just fine with Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw," Bellamy huffed. "What are you? Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?"

"Not telling," she shot him a toothy grin. "Where are your books? Do you want a couple for your KK present?"

"They're here with me, I'm rereading them," he admitted. "I don't care what you get me. You're an artist, you could probably just draw me something and I'd be fine with it."

Clarke sighed heavily, rolling her eyes at him again. "You're worse than Murphy, aren't you? By the way, pray you never get Murphy for things like this, he's impossible to buy for."

"Noted," he paused. "Should I be asking if you want something in particular? Because I already had something in mind."

"Is that so?" curiosity was stamped all over her face.

"Changing the subject now," he grinned when she pouted.

"You have one more game before you break up for Christmas, right?"

"Yeah, you follow soccer?" Bellamy was curious.

"Not religiously, but my dad used to like it so I remembered most of the rules when I started watching your games."

"You watch my games?" he was oddly touched, even Octavia only watched his games haphazardly these days.

"It's becoming a thing in the household," Clarke smiled and nodded. "I pulled up the game from before thanksgiving and Murphy ended up watching it with me, since then everyone seems to be congregating at our place to watch, including your sister. Who doesn't know it was my idea, I think we should pretend not to get along a little longer just to annoy her for rigging the KK draw."

"Vengeful Princess," he chuckled. "I like it. But she won't know until Christmas and I'm not being rude to you to annoy my baby sister."

"Fine, fine," she sighed dramatically. "Just don't say anything then, we'll surprise her or something."

"If you say so Princess," Bellamy glanced over when there was a knock at his door and Miller stuck his head in.

"I saw the light, want coffee?" Miller wondered.

Bellamy motioned him in. "Miller meet Clarke Griffin, Princess, this it Nathan Miller."

"Hi Nathan," Clarke waved through the phone at the new arrival.

"Miller is fine, and you're the infamous Clarke," Miller chuckled. "I thought you guys didn't get along."

"Infamous?" Clarke wondered.

"I have a group chat happening with Octavia, Monty and Jasper, your name comes up a lot these days."

Clarke's expression turned pinched. "If they uploaded those photos from the other night, Bellamy, I swear it was not my fault."

"What photos? What happened?" Bellamy demanded, turning her back to fully face him.

"It's Jasper's fault, that's all I'm saying on the matter," Clarke sniffed. "You have company now, I'll talk to you another time. Nice to meet you Miller," she called to him. "Talk to you later Bellamy." With that, she was gone.

"What photos?" Bellamy turned to Miller who was already disappearing out the door.

* * End Flashback * *

* * * * * *

Roan's soft kiss on her hairline and his strong arm banded around her waist, supporting her, supplied a surge of warmth that managed to starve off some of the panic that was clawing at her insides and weakening her knees.

It had been far harder than she had ever imagined, seeing him again, talking to him, pretending to just be a past, casual acquaintance. Just as it was immediately apparent to her that the years had changed him just as much as they had changed her, based on the simple fact that he had seemed so calm.

Bellamy had always shown some kind of reaction, he had been horrible at completely hiding his emotions even when he tried, and he certainly always had something to say. But now, there had been no hint of anger, almost no reaction to her presence at all besides the way his eyes had seemed to track her across the room when she had first turned to him and the brief beginnings of a smirk when she had first said his name.

That he had only said two sentences in her company had blown away the tiny hope she had always secretly harboured that one day they could somehow return to each other's lives.

Clarke didn't think she had ever been so thankful to Roan in all the time she had known him, and that was saying something. He had seen her struggling to keep her armor up and trying to soldier on, at the end he had basically been physically holding her up, and his support was what was still holding her together now.

A deep inhale and she gave in to the magnetic pull to turn and check that Bellamy was still right there. Then she met the smouldering russet of his gaze over her shoulder and the furious bitterness she saw there devastated her. Sucking in a desperate breath, Clarke immediately faced forward again.

"As soon as it doesn't look like you're running away, we can get out of here," Roan spoke quietly into her ear.

Reacting out of pure anxiety and thankfulness, Clarke reached up and kissed him.

"Thank you," she whispered, hearing the broken tone in her own voice.

* * * *

"Bellamy, are you okay?" concern was furrowing Echo's brow when Bellamy moved his eyes back to her, his stomach clenching uncomfortably.

"No, I'm not," he bit out, the seething anger was back, firing his blood.

Echo gave him a look that invited him to talk to her, but he wasn't sure he could. Not clearly and concisely. Certainly not while Clarke was still within his sights and it would be too easy to march over and start a fight.

But then the idea of fighting with Clarke again put him at odds with himself. Was it immature of him to want to start an argument just to see if she would react the same? Hope was rearing its unwelcome head at the thought that hashing it out could be good for both of them, maybe it would even create a chance for them to have some kind of relationship again. Loudest of all however, was the furious part of him that wanted an opportunity to see if he could hurt her.

His body almost moved on its own, poised and ready to do battle. He hadn't felt like this in years.

Then Murphy's words filtered back to him, about not wanting Clarke to get hurt again, and some of the fight went out of him. Something had happened to Clarke in the last six years, something neither Murphy nor his sister was willing to tell him about. It was the only thing that made any sense to him in that moment, because the Clarke he had known had never needed protecting. Occasionally she would need back up, but never protection.

Bellamy took a long pull on his beer and met his girlfriend's eyes. "I'm not sure I should be, but I'm still angry," he admitted to her.

Echo studied him for a moment, likely noticing the way his eyes kept shifting back to Clarke, and the anxious tapping of one finger against his beer bottle. "Is it really anger, or is it hurt?" she finally asked gently, and Bellamy bit the inside of his cheek, hard, to stop himself from lashing out when she was clearly just worried about him.

"They're usually tied together, aren't they?" he was being purposefully vague and they both knew it. "I'm still hurt because of the past. But I'm also angry because she seems completely fine even though I know she's not," he reluctantly elaborated.

"What makes you think she's not fine? She seems the same as every other time I've seen her."

"It's something Murphy said, something O implied," Bellamy frowned and couldn't help but watch Clarke for a moment, conversing with Roan and his colleagues as if she was one of them and her world hadn't just shifted.

Bellamy's quiet, comfortable world was feeling a lot like glass that had fractured without falling apart.

"Do you want to leave?"

Like a magnet, his eyes went to Clarke. If they left, how long until he saw her again? The question shook him, given his unstable emotions. Six years with no word and he still didn't seem to want to leave the room while she was in it.

"No," feeling like he had to justify himself, Bellamy went on. "I don't want it to seem like I'm bothered by her."

His eyes travelled down to the beaded and braided leather cuff he wore on his right wrist. Once its presence had been necessary for his sanity, now wearing it was a habit, as automatic an action as putting on his watch or wearing socks with his shoes. He was always acutely aware of the ink on his skin beneath it, but now that ink felt fresh, as if it was branding him all over again, and he had to wonder, given Clarke's new occupation, if its counterpart had been altered on her body.

Occupation? Bellamy's head shot back up.

"Why isn't Clarke in the army anymore?"

"I don't know the details," Echo's brow was still furrowed as she met his eyes. "Roan had an honourable discharge for medical reasons, he also received a medal for whatever led to it. As far as I know Clarke was stationed at the same base but she wasn't under his command."

"Was she a tattoo artist when you met her?" Bellamy knew he was asking these questions with a laser focus that had to be surprising her.

"I really can't remember," Echo apologised.

He really couldn't help the sigh of frustration. Clarke was right there, he could just ask her, but the idea that she might not tell him, might not confide in him left him hollow.

Rubbing at his sternum, where the hollow feeling was growing, Bellamy finally put a name to it. Vulnerability. He had locked many things away six years ago, defending himself against feeling them ever again, but Clarke made him vulnerable. She always had, and it seemed she always would.

"I don't want her to be unphased," Bellamy finally spoke the words aloud, meeting Echo's eyes guiltily. "It's petty, I know it is. But if she really is okay, then what about me? What does that mean for me, for what used to be such a big part of my life? I wasn't okay," he shook his head at his admission.

What he wanted most right now, was to talk to his sister.

Chapter Text

When Bellamy made the abrupt decision to leave he hadn't said a word to Echo. She followed him, practically jogging to keep up with his much longer stride. She'd never seen him in such a volatile state, so letting him go alone seemed like a bad idea even though she hadn't necessarily been invited.

The drive to Octavia's was silent. The jeep came to a stop, and he shifted into park. She studied him - the tense set of his shoulders as he took in a long bracing breath. She wanted to comfort him, but before she could say a word he was stomping to the front door and barging in without bothering to knock. Echo followed slowly, waving an awkward hello to Lincoln and Octavia where they sat on the couch in the dimly lit living room and had obviously been waiting. Lincoln flicked off the TV, plunging the room into semi darkness before he switched on a lamp.

Bellamy began to pace, running a shaky hand through his dark hair before sinking down onto the couch. Echo watched as his body curled in on itself, elbows braced on his knees and shoulders slightly hunched as if he was trying to protect himself. "I saw Clarke."

The silence was deafening. Octavia didn't move, didn't say a word.

"You knew," Bellamy's head snapped up, his lip drawing back in a feral snarl.

"I did."

Echo was amazed at Octavia's calm concern, her love and worry for her brother shining in her eyes.

His laugh was mirthless and bitterly sharp, "I guess I did get under her skin."

"Did you really think she wouldn't be nervous being in a room with you for the first time in six years?" Octavia scoffed. "She's not a corpse! She has feelings."

"I never would have known by the way she was acting." The harshness of his voice made Echo wince. This was a whole new side to Bellamy - the usually mild mannered high school teacher who loved ancient mythology and smiled easily was gone. She had never seen him so emotional.

"How did you expect her to act?" Octavia raged back. "You know how good she is at hiding her emotions!"

Bellamy's fist landed against his thigh with a harsh thwack, and Echo seemed to be the only one startled by the angry outburst. "I haven't known her in six years."

"What do you expect me to say to that Bell? I can't tell you she's the same, but some things will never change about Clarke." Octavia's chin rose in defiance, her voice belying the angry spark in her expressive eyes. Lincoln's hand on hers seemed to be the only thing keeping her in her seat.

"Why isn't she in the army anymore?" Bellamy asked suddenly, calm for the first time in over an hour. "That was her purpose, her one connection to her father."

A shadow darkened Octavia's gaze. "She was honorably discharged."

"Why?" Bellamy demanded, his anger returning.

"You should ask Clarke."

"I can't and you know that," he returned hotly.

"No I don't," Octavia huffed, "You know where she is. Ask her."

"And if she doesn't tell me?" There was so much uncertainty and sadness in that one statement. Echo could almost feel it. She knew he wouldn't show it, but she could tell by the twitch in his hands that he was afraid. He was afraid of Clarke's rejection.

"That's her choice, isn't it?"

"Stop being stubborn." Bellamy's glare darkened impossibly.

"Pot, meet kettle." Octavia threw up her hands. "My stubbornness is because I won't tell someone else's secrets. Yours has just made you miserable for six years."

"How is this my fault now? You're the one who kept Clarke secret all these years." Bellamy was on his feet, unable to sit still any longer. To anyone other than his sister he would have been pretty intimidating.

"It was only a secret because nobody ever bothered to ask. I never once lied to you to keep Clarke a secret."

Bellamy scoffed. "I don't believe you."

Octavia rolled her eyes. "That's your problem, not mine. I spent three years waiting for you to bring her up Bell, to forgive her or move on or break down, anything would have been better than ignoring it and shutting it away. I was waiting, hoping, sometimes even praying that you would just get over it but you didn't. Now that she's here, that you've seen her, you expect me to tell you everything. What are you looking for here, an excuse? Guilt? Do you even know?"

Bellamy started pacing. "I want to know why no one told me!"

"You didn't ask," Octavia shot back, tired of his outbursts.

"You should have told me anyway!" Both hands carded through his curls, coming to rest at the back of his neck.

"You wouldn't even stay in a room when someone brought her up." Octavia shot to her feet. "How was I supposed to tell you? Be honest Bellamy, you were waiting for her to apologize first!"

"You don't know what she said to me!" Bellamy whirled violently, coming toe to toe with his sister.

"I'm sure you gave as good as you got, and I'm three years and a lot of drama past caring." Octavia didn't back down. She was tired of his pig headedness. "If you think Clarke hasn't paid the price ten times over, you need to think again."

"And we're back to this. You didn't tell me then, you won't tell me now. How am I supposed to move past this knowing nothing?" He was pacing again.

"You're supposed to trust that the parts of Clarke we love are still there. If you can't do that then you just need to learn how to be in a room with her from time to time because I'm not barring her from my home to suit you." Octavia crossed her arms stubbornly.

"I trusted her more than anyone! That's not something that can just be recovered with no explanation."

"But you didn't even try!"

"Broken trust needs an explanation."

"What about Clarke's broken trust?" Octavia said shaking her finger at him. "Her family blamed her and cast her away because of the actions of the person she was in love with. And you, her best friend, didn't even question it. You took Raven's word - the person who hasn't had a kind word to say about Clarke in six years. You think you were the only one with a broken heart?"

"She could've contacted me."

"I call bullshit. You know she overthinks things like this. What was that inside joke…? The head and the heart?"

Bellamy physically jolted, bringing a bittersweet quirk to Octavia's lips as her barb hit its mark.

"I would bet my life that she picked up her phone more than once and talked herself out of calling you," she continued, "I know I did the same when we weren't talking. Do you even know what it would have done to her if you hadn't answered? Hadn't called back? On top of everything else."

"What's everything O? Stop dodging around it."

"I know you," she said with a stubborn shake of her head, "anything I say will make you feel guilty. Clarke doesn't need your guilty conscience, she struggles enough with her own."

"What about what I need O?" Bellamy's hand met his chest with a thump. "You only seem worried about Clarke."

"Because I was there when she was at her worst! You were not because you never let yourself need anyone!" Octavia accused.

"I needed her!"

His angry shout made Echo jump. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever feel this strongly about her.

"Not as much as she needed you! But I was the Blake she got…and Lincoln and Roan, and then thank goodness she found Madi."

"Then you should have told me!"

"You think I didn't want to?!" Octavia laughed harshly, almost hysterically, running a hand through her own hair. "I picked up the phone so many times to do just that, but to have you show up when she was in that state…out of guilt, would have killed her. Seeing her like that would have killed you too."

"You still should've told me. You don't know what she means to me."

His use of the present tense wasn't lost on Echo, and a glance at Lincoln told her he hadn't missed it either. She could feel her own shoulders getting heavy. This whole thing was wearing her out.

"We all knew!" Octavia's voice rose higher. "How could anyone with eyes not know?! But hell Bellamy, you didn't even know what was happening in our own family back then. How was I supposed to tell you out of the blue that Clarke needed you when you wouldn't even speak to me about her?"

"You're my sister. If you'd pushed, I would have listened."

"You could have asked. You knew Lincoln would be able to find her, admit it. It was easier to be stubborn and wall yourself off."

"What else was I supposed to do when she just disappeared?" Bellamy asked, his voice almost pleading.

"You tried to call her?" Octavia's eyes widened with the realisation, the fight leaving her in a rush.

"She didn't answer," Bellamy grit out, hurt written all over his face, "I didn't leave a message."

"She was overseas."

"That's not an excuse!"

"She was deployed, Big Brother," Octavia replied, her tone soft yet reproachful. "Her people abandoned her and cast her away, so she ran away. She didn't know how else to cope."

Octavia watched him for a moment, taking a deep breath. "She isn't your brave princess anymore Bell."

Bellamy dropped heavily back onto the couch, his face falling into his hands.

Echo wondered how that one sentence had held so much meaning to him that the fight seemed to have disappeared from Bellamy. The silence that followed was too loud as Octavia tentatively returned to her place beside Lincoln, waiting.

Finally he looked up again. "Clarke not being brave isn't Clarke." The tone in his voice was heartbreaking.

"That's not quite true." All eyes swung to Lincoln as the usually quiet man spoke up. "She's still brave," he went on, just as calm now as he had been when this had started, reminding Echo that Lincoln had known the Blake siblings for eight years, and probably seen many more of these arguments. "It's just a different kind of bravery." Lincoln met Bellamy's eyes, sorrow heavy in his aura. "She used to be fearlessly brave, but life was determined to break her. Eventually it succeeded."

Bellamy looked back to Octavia. "What happened? I need to know," he pleaded.

"I can't tell you what happened when they were on tour," Octavia shook her head apologetically. "Legally speaking I'm not even supposed to know most of what Lincoln has told me."

A frustrated hand went back through his curls and Lincoln took pity on him.

"I was deployed with her," Lincoln started, completely steady. "It was supposed to be for twelve months. I was back within seven, Clarke was back in nine. But even before I was sent home, she had earned a reputation."

Echo didn't like where this was going, and the colour leaving Bellamy's face revealed he was of a similar mind.

"She seemed to be able to walk away from everything, sometimes even without a scratch." Lincoln went on. "Those around her weren't always as lucky, me included. She watched a lot of people die Bellamy, more than some career military see in a lifetime. The local extremists somehow noticed this and gave her a moniker, starting to target our teams more than usual in some superstitious attempt to kill her. It wasn't pretty. No one would be okay after that, not even Clarke."

"What did they call her?" Bellamy's voice was clearly shaky.

"Translated it was the Commander of Death."

Something akin to a sob came out of Bellamy's throat and he bowed his head as he fought off his reaction.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting, until Octavia got restless and stood. "I need a drink," she announced and marched out of the room.

Echo flicked a sidelong glance at Bellamy before murmuring that she'd get them all drinks and following Octavia into the kitchen. There she found the other woman staring blankly into the fridge, shadows clouding her usually vibrant green eyes. Echo cleared her throat and Octavia glanced over before reaching into the fridge and pulling out a few beers.

Movement when something was on their mind must have been a Blake trait, because Octavia shuffled through a drawer for a bottle opener that ended up being the first thing in said drawer, then proceeded to fiddle with each of the four bottles before she opened them. Echo had always observed that Bellamy tended to be a man of action, but the last few days had really brought the tics and motions that helped him mask his more volatile emotions to her attention. Movements that she had only seen occasionally when he was under a great deal of stress.

"If I know my brother at all he probably won't sleep much tonight." Octavia startled her out of her thoughts, as she handed over one of the beers. "You might as well both stay here," the younger woman went on. "And if you have questions, you should just ask. I doubt Bell will offer anything up voluntarily."

"Why do you say that?" Hurt put a tinge of sharpness into Echo's words.

"It's nothing on your relationship, but my brother has just never been very good at depending on people. Talking about his troubles falls under dependency." Octavia started picking at the sticker on her beer bottle. "Half of our issues stem from that fact. The more I didn't need to depend on him anymore, the harder it was for him to adjust to just being my brother and not my parent."

"And Clarke somehow changed that?" Echo couldn't stop herself from asking.

"They shared their demons and she took a weight off his shoulders no one really noticed was there until it was gone." Octavia glanced back in the direction of the silent living room. "It's back now, he just carries it differently."

Echo paused, wondering how to word her question so that she didn't sound insecure. "Do I need to be worried about Clarke?" There was simply no other way to put it.

Octavia's eyes shot to hers, brows raised sky high.

The silence grew uncomfortable before Octavia responded.

"Look, I can't give you assurances one way or the other, and it isn't my place to somehow end up in the middle of your relationship or any troubles that may or may not arise." Octavia's chin moved into that stubborn tilt she often wore, her words fierce and leaving no room for arguments. "I've always been a selfish person and I'll admit that it took seeing my brother lose Clarke for me to realise how selfish I was. Clarke and Bellamy connected on some level that I don't think either had with anyone else before or since. But none of us could ever really figure out for sure if they were more than friends. One second you would be convinced one of them was in love with the other and the next they were so obviously just platonic that it was baffling."

Octavia took a moment to collect her thoughts, sipping at her beer. "At the end of the day, whatever was there in the past, there's six years of distance between them," she met Echo's eyes. "The only solid advice I can give you, is that if Bellamy decides to try to patch things up with Clarke, you can't discourage him, because even when he was mad at her he could never just sit by and listen to people speak negatively about her. I know what Clarke's been through, and there are things in her past that will wreck Bellamy if he learns about them. He may think otherwise, but I worry about how he'll handle everything just as much as I worry about Clarke."

Echo nodded, not really sure how to absorb this advice.

A phone buzzed and Octavia pulled hers out, a faint softening around her eyes and mouth when she read the text. "Just like that." She made a motion with her phone before quickly typing a reply. "'Is he okay?' She just assumed he'd come here."

Echo's stomach dropped but before anything else could be said, Bellamy and Lincoln wondered into the kitchen and Octavia shoved her phone back into her pocket looking as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

The two remaining beers were handed to the men and Octavia took her place pressed in to Lincoln's side, studying her brother. "I've already suggested that the two of you stay here tonight if you want?" she offered to her brother. "We can put something on and all fall asleep in front of the telly."

Bellamy glanced at Echo for her thoughts, and she could read in his eyes that he wanted to stay so she could only agree with a sigh.

"Great, we'll find something. You guys join us at your own pace." Octavia pushed Lincoln out of the room.

"I'm sorry about tonight," Bellamy apologised, not meeting her eyes. "It didn't turn out the way I was expecting."

"It's fine," Echo hesitated for a second before adding, "but I think we may need to sit down and talk about all this."

His eyes flicked up to hers and something that looked frighteningly like panic shot through his gaze before he locked it away and let out a drained sigh. "Please just not tonight?" he requested.

Echo nodded, and they made their way back into the living area.

Chapter Text

It was harder than she'd thought it would be, keeping her eyes on Madi on the field and off Bellamy where he paced back and forth along the sideline tracking his players. Clarke was glad at least, that Madi had warned her ahead of time, and kicking herself for not figuring it all out at the start of the school year when her daughter had first started raving about the awesome history teacher and soccer coach named Mr. Blake.

"So how are you doing?" Octavia asked out of the blue when the umpires paused the game to discuss a foul.

Clarke glanced at her friend, wondering if she could pull off pretending she didn't know what the other woman was talking about.

Octavia's raised eyebrows told her decisively that she could not.

"It's going to take some adjusting," Clarke admitted with a heavy sigh, her stomach churning at the thought of having to adjust to having Bellamy back. Her hand reached up on its own to rub nervously at the bridge of her nose and she had to consciously force herself to move it back down, balling it into a fist so tight where she rested it on her thigh that her nails dug into her palm. "But I assumed it would happen sooner or later, so I'll get used to it." Play resumed and Clarke trained her eyes on the field. "I hadn't expected to see so much of him when this did happen though." She gestured to the older of the Blakes.

"Nothing really needs to change," Octavia encouraged. "Just treat him like any of Madi's other teachers."

"He's your brother O," Clarke frowned, she knew what Octavia meant to Bellamy and she couldn't be the reason Octavia kept distance between them. The two and a half years they had been estranged had to have been even more horrible for him than it had been for O, and that was saying something.

"So what?" Octavia shrugged with a pout that only Octavia Blake could make look both cute and menacing at the same time. "He did just fine without me for more than two years."

"You still need to make an effort with him," Clarke reprimanded lightly. "Spend time with him, especially on holidays."

"You and Lincoln and Madi are my family," Octavia's mouth took on a stubborn pout. "I like spending my holidays with you guys."

Clarke hesitated briefly, but she could afford to be uncomfortable for the sake of what was best for her chosen family. "Maybe you should start with family dinners then?" She thought she had pulled off sounding unaffected, though the grip she had on the bench she was sitting on would have proved otherwise. "He is your blood family after all."

Octavia's eyes swung sharply to read her expression. "Do you really mean that? Or will you just find an excuse to not come if Bell does come?"

"As if Madi would let me miss family dinner without a good excuse," Clarke chuckled dryly, both proud and exasperated by her daughter's actions. "You're clearly forgetting that one time four years ago when I had that awful virus and Madi still tried to get me to your apartment."

"Oh yeah," Octavia let out a laugh. "And the cabbie ended up driving you to the hospital instead. What did any of us do to deserve that girl?" she smiled fondly, her eyes tracking Madi.

"Funny how a fourteen year old has somehow saved both of us at some point," Clarke mused, shuddering a little at the thought of how not having Madi in her life would have impacted it.

"If I didn't love her so much I think I'd be terrified of her enthusiasm," Octavia was laughing again. "She's a force to be reckoned with."

They drifted into silence as they continued to watch the game for a while.

"Are you really okay with me inviting him?"

"O!" Clarke huffed, startled by the abruptness. "Seriously, I repeat, he is your brother. Just invite him." It came out harsher than she meant it to but her heart was in the process of trying to jolt out of her rib cage.

Octavia nodded.

A while later Clarke couldn't stop herself from asking. "That cuff your brother wears on his right wrist?"

"What about it?" Octavia's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Does he always wear it?"

Octavia had to think about it for a few moments. "I can't consciously remember him not wearing it, why?" she tilted her head at her friend. "Does it mean something?"

"Not particularly," Clarke brushed off the truth, her hand moving unbidden to the ribs along her left side, and was thankful when a goal was scored by their side, everyone in their section immediately standing to cheer.

They had settled back down when Octavia sighed heavily beside her.

"What's wrong?"

"It just occurred to me that I'll have to invite Echo to family dinner too," Octavia was pouting again.

"You don't like Echo?" Clarke was surprised by this fact. She had assumed Octavia would appreciate another tough, loyal, independent woman.

"It isn't that I dislike her," Octavia was suddenly looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I just...there's some things..." she was clearly struggling for the right words. "As a person I admire her and her profession, I do. I have a great respect for her. I just don't think she's right for my brother."

"But they seem so calm and settled together," Clarke was confused.

Octavia's eyes narrowed slightly and she focused on watching her brother for a moment. "You've only seen them together once, so you wouldn't have noticed it yet," she finally stated. "He says he loves her, and they do seem to be those things, but I don't think Bell is completely himself with her. I'm worried that he's just gotten comfortable with the way things are."

Clarke wanted to ask for more detail, it was a clawing need actually, but she knew she had no right and so all she could do was loop her arm through Octavia's and offer her some comfort. "So long as they love each other and so long as he's happy," Clarke had to clear her throat a little. "That's all anyone can ask for."

Octavia let out a resigned sigh and nodded and they turned their attention back to the game.

* * Flashback * *

Clarke had always loved Christmas time. There was always a hint of cinnamon or gingerbread on the frosty air. The smell of pine while decorating the tree - though her mother had always hired someone to have theirs appear just so. But her favourite part was being awake at just the right time of night, when it was dark and cars were basically non-existent. When the streetlamps were accompanied by the cheerily blinking Christmas lights people everywhere had trimming their houses and sometimes even the trees in their front yards.

There was no sentimental reason for her to love the way the lights twinkled in the dark, but it brought her such a sense of calm, of simple beauty, that on nights like tonight when dreams plagued her, being able to sit in the window with a hot beverage made all her problems fade away...for a little while at least.

She was dozing off again, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, her armchair pulled up to the window, her feet on the sill and steaming mug in hand, when a light tap on the glass startled her upright.

Seeing her blinking sleepily at him, Bellamy grinned lopsidedly and waved his fingers at her. A scarf hiding his chin, a beanie flattened his curls and his glasses framing his eyes seemed to highlight his youth. The duffel bag slung over one shoulder reminded Clarke that Octavia had been complaining about needing to pick him up from the airport "at an ungodly hour" - her words exactly.

Smiling back, Clarke shuffled to her feet and both of them headed for the front door.

Since the night she had gotten tipsy at a Christmas dinner and woken Bellamy, something had shifted in their relationship. They had suddenly seemed to become actual friends, calling each other regularly to talk about nothing. Sometimes he made her laugh, and other times he just listened when she needed someone to vent to. Having someone on an almost opposite sleep cycle had proven useful too, as she found she now had someone to distract her when she was awake in the middle of the night.

Clarke had actually been looking forward to seeing him again. And as she put down her mug to unbolt the door, all she could think was that she needed a hug, and Bellamy's arms had always looked so inviting.

He seemed stunned for a moment, when her arms closed around him, before he reacted with a little puff of air against her neck like a sigh, and then his arms were wrapping tightly around her. She had never felt anything quite like it. Bellamy was so warm and so solid she couldn't think of the right words to describe it.

"Now there's something I never thought I'd see," Octavia's voice held a warm smile and the pair finally pulled apart.

"Bad dreams again Princess?" Bellamy's eyes stayed focused on her, purposely ignoring his sister beside them. He hiked the strap of his duffel back up his shoulder.

Clarke just nodded. "Welcome home," she told him and a smile returned to his face.

"Come upstairs?" he invited, tilting his head towards said stairs.

"I'll meet you up there," she promised, turning to make the rounds to pull on her boots and pick up an envelope from her room. She retrieved her mug and the excess hot chocolate that still sat by the stove. Octavia could be heard asking questions before she even reached their door, but silence fell as soon as Clarke entered.

Octavia beamed at her. "I don't know how it happened, but I'm glad it did, I knew the two of you would get along. What's that?" her eyes zeroed in on the saucepan.

"I made hot chocolate," Clarke passed it over to O who went straight for the kitchen to pull out two extra mugs for her and her brother.

"Trying to poison me when I've just returned home Princess?" Bellamy teased, unwinding the scarf and throwing it back into his room with his beanie. His hands carding through his hair put the messy curls back in place. "I thought we were past that."

Clarke rolled her eyes at him. "This is literally the only thing I can make."

Bellamy led her to the couch where Octavia met them with the two extra mugs and for a few quiet moments the three just sat and inhaled the warmth.

"Can I taste cinnamon? This is really good princess," Bellamy blinked at her in surprise. "What's that other spice? I can't quite place it."

"Griffin family secret," Clarke grinned and winked, causing Bellamy to huff and roll his eyes at her.

The three sat sipping their hot chocolate in silence for a while before Octavia announced she was getting a refill and disappeared into the kitchen.

"I've been wondering this whole time," Bellamy motioned to the manilla envelope she had dropped onto the coffee table. "What have you got there?"

"Ah," Clarke's cheeks burned. "Consider it a Christmas present, I guess," he took it with open curiosity when she held it out to him.

A small pile of forms and information brochures fell onto the table.

Seeing the confusion in his frown, Clarke rushed to explain.

"Octavia was telling me about how you were her brother, father and best friend while she was growing up and I finally really understood why you said college was only an option for one of you. I suspected that you basically raised her and that meant you probably raised you too, so no one would have shown much interest in whether or not you did further studies," he wasn't saying anything, still frowning at the papers, so she hurried on. "So I thought perhaps, now that your sister is in college and you don't have to worry about that as much, you might be interested in your own options. You probably don't want to play soccer forever, since it keeps you away from her and home, so I made some inquiries around Trikru and got you some information. It isn't a college town for nothing after all," she was definitely rambling now, but his lack of response had sent her anxiety levels into the stratosphere. "If you're interested, and you think you can manage your time, there are a few options that allow you to study via correspondence or online," she shuffled through the papers to point out the options. "This one even said it was possible to work in partnership with a university in Barcelona. You would just need to attend an actual class a few hours a week. There are even some scholarship options that have to do with working overseas, having a dependent and playing sports that you could be eligible for..."

She trailed off when she finally realised Bellamy wasn't paying any attention to the information, but rather was staring at her face with blank eyes and mouth agape. "Did I overstep?" Clarke wondered, her stomach clenching with worry and anxiety.

"No, I..." he swallowed and looked down at the papers. "This..." He leaned forward heavily, elbows on his knees and one fist pressed to his lips.

"What's wrong with Bellamy?" Octavia rejoined them, frowning in confusion.

"I don't know," Clarke was starting to panic.

"Bell?" Octavia waved her hand in front of her brother's face. "I think you broke him," she cackled. "I never thought I'd see the day. What did you do?"

"I gathered some information about teaching courses. He told me he'd always liked the idea of being a teacher."

"Bell wanted to teach?"

"You didn't know?" Clarke's stomach dropped, maybe it was supposed to be a secret.

"Princess," Clarke's eyes swung to Bellamy's. They seemed a little misty and his voice had a suspicious rasp to it. "Thank you," Bellamy wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her as close as their awkward seated positions allowed.

"Why didn't I know about this?" Octavia demanded after a moment.

"You didn't need to," Bellamy let one of his arms fall away so he could look at his sister, while the other stayed firmly around the back of Clarke's shoulders. "Someone had to be responsible for you and I wanted you to have as many options as you possibly could."

"How is it you never seemed to resent me?" Octavia's expression and voice showed a rare moment of vulnerability.

"When I was being childish and selfish I did," Bellamy admitted to her. "But then I'd get home and see you, you'd smile at me or demand we do something, and I hated myself because you were all the family I had. You were my responsibility and all I ever wanted was to protect you and for you to be happy."

"Bell," Octavia dived into him, hugging him tightly.

Clarke was struggling next to them, biting her lip so hard she was surprised she didn't taste blood, but the tears still filled her eyes.

"Oh man," Bellamy whined, seeing her tears and pulling her in close so she could wrap her arms around both of the Blakes. "And here I thought you two weren't criers."

"Shut up Bellamy," Clarke muttered. "It's your own fault for thinking with your heart."

"Thinking with my heart?" Bellamy made a noise of disbelief.

"She's right," Octavia moved back but stayed closely attached to his side. "You act like an arrogant jerk but one layer down you're all heart."

"Is that some kind of Shrek reference," Bellamy tried to lighten the mood, clearly uncomfortable with all the heartfelt attention he was getting.

"Only if you want to be an onion," Octavia stuck her tongue out at him, but then her face turned hopeful. "Are you going to look into this stuff Clarke got for you?" she pointed to the papers strewn across their coffee table.

"Of course, I can't play soccer forever, but I'd never really thought about my future beyond putting you through college," Bellamy smiled shyly at Clarke. "Thank you Princess."

A genuine smile spread across her face, her heart skipping a few beats. "You're very welcome."

He pulled her close again and just sat for a time, Bellamy holding Clarke close, his head rested against Octavia's on his shoulder.

* *End Flashback * *

* * * * * * *

Four days.

He had managed to go all of four days without seeing her, but now, as Bellamy saw Madi turn and wave excitedly into the bleachers after helping her team score another goal it wasn't a stretch to figure out who she was greeting. His eyes still moved up to check anyway. And there, halfway up, was Clarke, sitting beside Octavia, Lincoln and Murphy, all of them decked out in green and black to support the Polis High's under 16 girls soccer team.

Octavia spotted him looking their way, raised her eyebrows at him and waved.

Bellamy was raising his hand to reciprocate when Clarke's eyes met his, causing him to freeze like some kind of idiot for a second before following through with a tentative wave. He was rewarded with a small answering smile that made his stomach leap.

She hadn't strayed far from his thoughts all week, especially after seeing her again. The warnings given by Murphy and Octavia - surprisingly subtly for two not very subtle people - had been received, and kept him in a constant mix of curious and fearfully agitated...he was no closer now to deciding what he wanted to do with her than he had been when he had first heard that she was in town.

The more pressing matter of getting his girls through their first game of the season pulled his attention back to the field, and Bellamy took a fortifying breath, knowing he would need it to stay focused now.

"Hey big brother," Octavia's voice interrupted his thoughts just after halftime.

"O," they shared a one armed hug. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"We all come to support Madi," Octavia thumbed over her shoulder to indicate the trio still sitting up in the bleachers. "You didn't mention you were coaching her."

"With everything else it just kept slipping my mind," Bellamy's gaze lingered on Clarke before he realised what he was doing and tore his eyes away.

"You can just try talking to her Bell," his sister rolled her eyes at him. "She won't avoid you and it's probably healthier."

"We'll see," he muttered noncommittally.

"If you're interested, family dinner is at ours on Saturday nights," Octavia told him. "Anyone who's free comes by around seven."

A dagger found its way between his ribs.

"Also Lincoln and Murphy are going out for drinks after this if you want to join them," she went on unphased, not noticing his metaphorical internal bleeding.

"I'm supposed to meet Miller," Bellamy forced the words through a throat that didn't want to work.

"Just have him meet you," his sister pulled a face at him.

"What about you and Clarke?" he really struggled over her name this time.

"We're doing a girls night since Madi is staying at a friend's house after the game."

"How come you never invite Echo to those kinds of things?" Bellamy was sure he had a right to be offended that his sister didn't seem to want to bond with his girlfriend.

"For starters it's pretty weird already since it involves Clarke's sort of ex, as well as a former army buddy turned new-age-y 'humans-are-the-problem' type, though sometimes Emori makes it," Octavia rolled her eyes because somehow Emori always seemed to bring the sanity and normality to a group. "It's also just a night where we drink alcohol, paint our nails and watch things we shouldn't really watch when Madi is awake. Besides, it's at Clarke's. I can't really just invite your girlfriend along."

"They know each other, though."

"A passing acquaintance through the person she's sleeping with doesn't really count as knowing someone," Octavia accompanied her rolling her eyes with an annoyed huff. "She's welcome at family dinner though, in case that wasn't obvious."

"Gee thanks," he wasn't sure he had meant to be so sarcastic, but he was hurt damnit! His own sister was prioritising Clarke over him!

Octavia just rolled her eyes at him. "It's a start, okay? You never know what will happen next. Maybe Clarke and Echo will hit it off and all the issues will just stay with you."

Bellamy's eyes narrowed and he wanted to bite back, he really did, but it was not the time. He was supposed to be coaching.

"Do you want me to invite Miller and his boyfriend to family dinner? Will that make you more comfortable?" There was a frustrated snark in his sister's words and he knew he should back down at this point if he wanted to keep any peace. "If so ask him when you see him and just let me know if I need more chairs."

"When did making Clarke comfortable take priority over our sibling relationship?" Bellamy couldn't help but question.

"When it became necessary to make sure Clarke left her apartment," Octavia shot back, clearly fed up as she turned to storm away.

Bellamy just barely managed to catch her elbow. "What the hell does that mean?" He demanded.

"Nothing, I shouldn't have said anything," Octavia bit out through clenched teeth.

"Didn't sound like nothing." It sounded more like he was begging than he was entirely comfortable with.

"Look," his sister jerked out of his grasp. "We've already warned you that Clarke has been to hell and back. Since you're the smarter sibling you should be able to connect some dots when I tell you that at one time the only reasons she would go out was because of work or Madi. That is all."

She stormed off and Bellamy was left feeling a corner of his heart fracturing. He could no longer resist glancing at Clarke, relieved to see her attention seemed to be focused on the players running the field. He couldn't help but wonder, did he even have the right anymore to ask her about the last six years? He let out a long exhale, setting the matter aside to stew, and turned back to his players.

* * Flashback * *

Bellamy came awake acutely aware of the stiffness in his neck.

The three of them had fallen asleep on the couch. Octavia had barely moved, still curled into his side though the side of her face was resting against his biceps now instead of his shoulder and reminded him very much of how she had looked sleeping against him as a child, her cheek smooshed and lips parted, a tiny crinkle of a frown between her brows. Even asleep Octavia had always appeared ready and willing to take on the world.

Cringing as he shifted his neck to look to his other side, it took physical effort not to burst into uproarious laughter when he got a good look at Clarke sprawled beside him. Her upper back was resting against the armrest, the underside of her chin visible where her head was tipped back over the armrest so she would be viewing the world upside-down if she were awake. One of her legs was somehow hooked around his and the other crossed Octavia's thighs as well as his own.

"What?" Octavia jerked awake. "Why are you wriggling around when I'm comfortable?" she pouted.

Bellamy started chortling and pointed at Clarke, his sister immediately dissolving into laughter with him.

Clarke's head lifted and a killing glare was angled at them, rendered moot by the yawn and sleepy eyes that followed seconds later. "Shut up," she ground out, her voice rusty from sleep. "I'm a light sleeper and murderous without my morning coffee."

"Then get up and I'll treat you both to breakfast," Bellamy tapped on the leg she still had slung across them. "You both like the diner, right?"

Octavia bounced up and made for the bathroom, calling dibs as she went, with the promise of coffee and breakfast food. Clarke on the other hand started mumbling under her breath about having to go back downstairs to change.

"Just borrow something," Bellamy encouraged. "O probably isn't going to change. I'm sure you've noticed my sister has no shame," he chuckled. "She showed up at the airport in her PJs and moccasins just last night."

"Yeah but unlike me your sister looks like someone fresh out of a magazine ad no matter what she's wearing," Clarke rolled her eyes, clearly determined to be in a mood. "Also, not sure if you've noticed, but I have a bit more happening up here," she indicated her chest as she disentangled herself and stretched widely, groaning when things audibly creaked with the effort. Bellamy raised a flirtatious eyebrow at her - how many straight guys wouldn't have noticed? - to which she slapped his arm in playful warning."With your sister's penchant for tight clothes there's no way I can borrow anything."

"That's beside the point. Borrow one of my jackets instead then," he offered. "Would you feel better if I changed into my PJs too?"

Clarke just rolled her eyes at him again, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "no better than your sister". But she was on her feet stretching again before he could see her expression. "C'mon then," she huffed at him when he didn't move and disappeared into the bathroom as his sister cleared it.

Bellamy made quick work of changing his top, which still smelled like aeroplane, and joined her at the sink where she was brushing her teeth with toothpaste and her finger.

Octavia hurried them to the front door, and Bellamy barely had time to hand Clarke his threadbare leather jacket and wrap one of his scarves around her neck before his sister had them out the door.

And so he found himself traipsing to the diner at the end of their street with two stunning, pyjama-clad young women. One excitedly recapping recent happenings he may not have heard about yet, and the other doing a very convincing zombie impression, sluggishly wandering along beside him.

When Clarke veered slightly in her dazed state, Bellamy pulled her closer and kept his hand on her elbow until he had guided her safely into a booth where a festively-clad waitress supplied them with coffee and took their orders, and Bellamy watched - half in awe, half horror - while he witnessed Clarke practically inhale her first cup of coffee as though her life depended on it.

Task complete she sat back with a contented sigh and directed a smile at the siblings sitting side by side across from her. "I can be coherent now," she stated, causing the Blakes to burst into laughter.

They chatted good naturedly about nothing until their food arrived and the time it took them to eat their first few bites was silent. Then Octavia finally gave in and demanded they tell her how they had finally gone about becoming friends.

"We started chatting while I was here for Thanksgiving," Bellamy shrugged, trying to downplay it so his sister didn't become aware of just how deep some of the topics they had shared actually were for both of them. "Next thing you know," he waved his fork around in a manner that told one thing had just led to another.

"The fact your brother is all heart and doesn't mind keeping me company when I can't sleep didn't hurt," Clarke joked, sharing a private smile with Bellamy.

"Your problem is you think too much," Bellamy berated amiably. "How many times have you fallen asleep during a conversation now?"

"Sounds like you put her to sleep," Octavia baited him.

"I distract her so she can switch her brain off," Bellamy defended himself with a mildly offended huff. "She falls asleep halfway through her own sentences sometimes."

Clarke was clearly amused by his insulted act. "It's handy having you in a different timezone," she teased.

Bellamy made a face at her. "You say that as if I wouldn't keep you company if you couldn't sleep while I was in the same timezone."

"You would?" Clarke raised her eyebrows, clearly a little more surprised than he would have thought.

"Of course I would," even aware that he was pouting, he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"You honestly wouldn't care if I woke you in the middle of the night?" Clarke clarified.

"I know why you're doing it, so even if I cared, I'd still help you out," Bellamy turned serious. "Besides, it isn't anything I haven't done for this one many times over," he motioned at his sister, but was he imagining that her expression seemed to drop for a moment before she smiled gently at him?

"All heart," she shook her head at him.

"There's a joke in there somewhere," Octavia's eyes had been ping-ponging between them. "Clarke thinks too much and Bellamy's all heart."

"One's the heart and the other the brain?" Clarke chuckled. "Make us sound like two thirds of Dorothy's entourage in Oz why don't you."

"The head and the heart," Bellamy mused, his mind drifting a little. "Shouldn't that mean we compliment each other and work better together?"

Clarke's expression lit with wonder. "Why does it sound better when you say it like that?"

"It's reasonable," Bellamy teased her. "You like reason."

Clarke just rolled her eyes and was clearly about to respond when they were loudly interrupted by the sudden arrival of Murphy and Raven.

"Octavia said that we'd witness a miracle if we joined her for breakfast," Raven joked, sliding in beside Octavia when Murphy cut her off by stealing the spot beside Clarke while pulling a childish face at her. "But I think she undervalued what I'm seeing here. Pigs must be flying if Clarke and Bellamy are really sitting here having a civil conversation."

"How come you're suddenly getting along?" Murphy narrowed suspicious eyes at them. "Your arguments were such a great source of entertainment."

"They're more than getting along," Octavia gave them a mock-alarmed look. "It's sweet and touching and so very weird."

Clarke flung some whipped cream at her while Bellamy shot her a dry look. "You didn't seem to think it was weird a few minutes ago," he retorted.

Octavia gave him a wide grin and wrapped her arms around him tightly for a quick hug. "I'm just glad I was proven right," she stated triumphantly. "I knew the two of you could get along."

"Yeah yeah," he rolled his eyes, feigning exasperation with his sister, then smirking at Clarke as she stole a piece of his bacon. "You trading for that Princess?"

She just pushed her plate towards him, silently offering him anything he wanted off her waffles. He grinned and cut off a corner of maple syrup soaked waffle, Clarke adding whipped cream and some of the fresh berries to his forkful.

"Forget the pigs," Murphy was looking horrified. "Hell's frozen over! Clarke is sharing her waffles. She doesn't even do that for people she sleeps with."

The grin on his face grew impossibly wider as Bellamy swallowed the overly sweet mouthful, and told himself the rush he was feeling at that statement simply came from the ridiculous amount of sugar.

* * End Flashback * *

* * * * * *

Later that night Bellamy found himself following Lincoln and Murphy into a bar he'd yet to try but they seemed to frequent if the shouted acknowledgements from the security and bartenders were anything to go by. He had called Miller in relation to his old friend and former teammate's feelings on the others joining them and the other man had happily agreed, stating that he didn't see enough of any of them. Now, Bellamy spotted Miller at a table, far enough from where the evening's live band was setting up that they could all enjoy it, but still hear each other over the music, and they made their way over.

"Miller, my man," Murphy clapped hands with Miller in greeting. "Long time no see."

"Communication has never been your strong suit," Miller chuckled dryly. He nodded a greeting at Lincoln and slapped Bellamy on the back. "How'd this become a group thing?"

"We," Murphy motioned between he and Lincoln, "were going out anyway and Octavia decided her brother needed to get stuck with us instead," he shot the older Blake a cheeky grin.

"First round's on me," Lincoln moved - surprisingly easily for a man his size - through the crowd before anyone could say otherwise.

"Where'd you all come from?" Miller made conversation. "I thought you were coaching tonight?"

"They were at the game," Bellamy offered up hesitantly. "Where's Jackson? I thought he was coming."

"Eric has picked up a few extra shifts since Polis General is so short staffed at the moment."

"Your boyfriend is at PGH?" Murphy cottoned on. "My girlfriend is there two nights a week."

"Small world," Miller's eyebrows went up. "Which department?"

"She's an X-Ray tech," Murphy's whole person lit up with pride. "She's at a private facility four days a week and the hospital two nights since they're always short staffed. How an over funded hospital ends up short staffed all the time is beyond me."

"Tell me about it," Miller was practically moaning. "What's her name? I'll have to ask Eric if he knows her."

"Emori Sans."

Lincoln returned sporting four beers and took a seat. They drank in silence for a moment as the live band started playing their set on the other side of the bar.

"How did the game go?" Miller remembered to ask.

"They won," Murphy grinned proudly.

"Aren't you a little overly invested in a girls' high school soccer game?" Miller frowned.

"Clarke's daughter is on the team," Lincoln offered and Miller choked on his sip of beer.

"Clarke Griffin, Clarke?" he got out around his coughing, eyes wide with concern as he looked to Bellamy.

"The one and only," Murphy sassed. "Bellamy recently discovered that we've all been in touch, and she's living in Polis and mother to one of his students."

Miller's face was a cross between surprise and concern as he turned to his former teammate.

"I have to say, I'm glad someone else seemed to be in the dark." That Miller clearly hadn't known was a huge relief to Bellamy.

"You know I would have mentioned it," Miller assured him.

"Which is obviously why Octavia just avoided saying anything to you," Lincoln confirmed. "She was waiting for the day one of the two of them decided to bury the hatchet so to speak."

"And that day finally came?"

"Not exactly," Bellamy hesitated.

"Madi gave it away." Murphy chuckled at their discomfort. "An easily excitable child with almost no filter will do that."

"And who is Madi?"

"Clarke's daughter," Murphy's tone implied he was being stupid for not figuring it out on his own.

"One of my students," Bellamy added.

"How does Clarke suddenly have a teenage daughter? I don't remember that ever coming up."

"She's fostering her," Lincoln supplied. "They've put in for full adoption but the legal system has so much red tape it hasn't gone through yet."

"I'm still really confused," Miller shook his head. "How did she end up fostering? Did she end up with that Lexa chick? Because she didn't seem like the children type."

"Clarke sort of has a someone who definitely isn't Lexa," Murphy replied distractedly, eyes focused across the bar. "Madi lived with her abusive alcoholic father across the hall from Clarke..."

When Murphy trailed off, Lincoln took over and finished. "There were some unfortunate events involving Madi's father so Clarke took her in as a foster daughter and they've stayed that way ever since."

"How long ago was that?" Miller seemed to be asking all the questions Bellamy wanted answers to, something he was very glad of.

"Around five years ago."

"How does that work when she's on tour? Or does she not tour anymore?"

"Clarke was discharged from the army shortly before she met Madi. She's my business partner."

"How come I've never seen her when I've stopped in?"

"Coincidence?" Lincoln shrugged, his face so bland there was no way to figure out if he was being truthful.

"And she's lived in Polis all this time?"

"Pretty much."

"And you guys knew?"

"No. Just Octavia and I at that stage," Lincoln appeared to be growing uncomfortable with their continued topic of conversation.

"So what happened to Lexa?"

Lincoln and Murphy both went tense briefly, a response that didn't go unnoticed. "They broke up six years ago," was all Lincoln offered.

"Six years ago?" Bellamy jumped on that bit of information. "How soon after the group fall out?"

Lincoln shared a look with Murphy and the other two could tell they didn't want to share. Sensitive subject though it was, surely if it was just a simple break up they would have said so?

"Reaction suggests right away," Miller commented.

"Look," Lincoln let out a resigned sigh. "These details aren't really our responsibility to share. All you need to know is Clarke broke up with Lexa. Several months later Lexa was stationed at the same base as us and they kind of got back together briefly. It didn't last long and they are no longer together." There was such finality in his words they knew they couldn't push any longer.

Bellamy clearly knew Clarke had Roan now, but somehow this new information left him more confused than ever. Clarke had been in love with Lexa - she had told him so herself. But now he learned they had broken up shortly after her fall out with their other friends, who had told him the whole argument had been in regards to Lexa. How was he even supposed to process that on top of everything? Every new bit of information about Clarke seemed to leave him with more questions.

Murphy disappeared from the table not long after and Lincoln was pulled into a conversation with a patron who was apparently a client. Miller took the opportunity to lean closer. "How are you coping with this?"

"I have no idea," Bellamy shook his head at himself. He wasn't really doing as badly as he could have been, but he definitely was not handling it well either.

"Have you seen her?" Miller sounded hesitant to ask. "Wait, she was probably at the game tonight."

"I first saw her at the start of the week," Bellamy nodded, feeling himself wilt a little. "She looks good," he admitted both to Miller and to himself. "But everyone seems to keep insisting that she wasn't always. They've been very stingy on the details though."

"Well I'm around if you need an ear," Miller patted his elbow once in a subtle show of support. "I can see if I can get anything out of your sister too?"

"Good luck with that, she's been annoyingly close-lipped about everything," Bellamy huffed, but relief was making his shoulders feel lighter with Miller's gesture. Twelve years of friendship wasn't easy to eradicate and was a much needed consolation to his confused state of mind. "And they seem to be family now."

"You and I both know that Octavia is aware you haven't exactly had it easy the last six years," Miller kept his voice only loud enough for the two of them to hear. "So if she's protecting Clarke over you..." he hinted.

"Yeah, I know, she must have had it pretty damn bad," Bellamy took a large gulp of his beer, attempting to wash away the sour taste in his mouth.

"Or maybe your sister will surprise us both and turn out to be protecting both of you," they shared a somewhat disbelieving laugh at that.

"I never thought I'd see the day Clarke and I needed to be protected from each other."

"I'd put money on your friendship rising again," Miller chuckled. "If you gave it a chance anyway. A little effort always seemed to go a long way with the pair of you."

"We'll see," Bellamy left out a heavy exhale. "So far I haven't really been able to wrap my head around it properly."

"Does Echo know about Clarke?" Miller finally thought to ask.

"She knows what I've told her," Bellamy ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Turns out Clarke's dating her superior at work, so they've actually had a passing acquaintance for the last five years."

"So many overlaps," Miller was a bit stunned. "I hate to say it man, but I think fate might actually have been trying to find a way to get the two of you back in a room together."

Bellamy huffed out a doubt filled laugh.

"Off topic a little," he changed the subject. "O says you and Jackson are invited to family dinner tomorrow night to relieve my discomfort about having Clarke there."

Miller's eyebrows went up again. "Okay well I'll be there to be your buffer then, but I'll need to confirm with Eric if he's free. Is family dinner a thing with them now?"

"Seems like it," Bellamy wasn't quite resigned to that fact yet.

"Well then, I suggest we enjoy our night and decide how to deal with that tomorrow," Miller clinked their beers together and saluted.

A smile slipped across Bellamy's face and he forcefully shoved away thoughts of Clarke and family dinner, determined to enjoy the rest of his night.

Chapter Text

When they entered Octavia's home the following evening, music was filtering through the house from the direction of the kitchen - a song he vaguely recognised as something from the nineties - and the smell of roasting meat was mouthwatering.

But Bellamy's jaw dropped when he made it into the kitchen to find his sister and Clarke, not dancing exactly but moving heads, shoulders and sometimes hips and feet in time with the beat. Octavia, looking more cheerful than he had seen her in a while, was chopping veggies at the island bench. And Clarke, looking stunningly casual in torn denim jeans and a pastel blue and white striped sweater, with her sleeves rolled up, looked to be peeling potatoes, causing Bellamy's stomach to drop.

"Parallel universe," Bellamy shook his head. "We've entered an alternate dimension, it's the only explanation for what I'm seeing."

Clarke and Octavia both laughed at him, reached for their wineglasses and saluted to them in near perfect mirror symmetry. "Hello big brother, Echo," Octavia greeted. "You're early."

"We thought we could lend a hand. We also brought drinks," Echo held up a bottle of wine and motioned to the beers Bellamy had stashed under his arm. "But looks like you already have help."

"What are you drinking?" Octavia asked, taking on the roll of hostess.

"Whatever you have open is fine," Echo glanced worriedly at her boyfriend where he was still staring, mouth agape, at Clarke.

"Seriously Bellamy," Clarke huffed as she moved to retrieve another wineglass for Echo. "I'm perfectly capable of peeling some potatoes."

"Last time I saw you do that you sliced off the pad of a finger."

Clarke just rolled her eyes and went back to her task while Octavia took over pouring and handing off the wine.

"Are you sure I can't do anything to help?" Echo took a sip of her wine, glancing between Bellamy and Clarke.

"We're just about done for now, but thanks," Octavia looked in complete control as the last of the veggies went on a tray and into the oven. She went on to cutting the potatoes as Clarke finished up.

Clarke collected all the food scraps and headed for the back door while Octavia was throwing the potatoes into an already boiling pot on the hotplates. Bellamy shot his sister a confused look.

"We're adults with our own home, we compost now," Octavia chuckled at her brother's stunned expression.

"I'm still struggling with Clarke being allowed to help in the kitchen."

"She still needs supervision," Octavia laughed at his expense. "But she has a kid to take care of, she's no longer completely incompetent...so long as it's out of a packet and comes with detailed instructions of exactly how long it needs to cook," she teased with a roll of her eyes.

Clarke reentered at the same moment Murphy and Emori came through the front door, causing Echo to visibly relax and offer up a smile in greeting with the arrival of her friend. Murphy slapped Bellamy on the back in passing greeting before depositing his tea towel wrapped bundle on the kitchen counter.

"Murphy," Clarke and Octavia both moaned euphorically at the same time.

"You baked bread," Octavia moved closer, trying to take a peek. "What kind is it this time?"

"My mouth is watering," Clarke sighed dreamily before breaking into laughter when Murphy slapped and shooed Octavia away, protective as always of his freshly baked bread. She glanced at Bellamy and Echo. "If you haven't tried it before, Murphy bakes the best bread you'll ever eat."

It did smell pretty heavenly, Bellamy would easily admit.

Murphy retrieved another wineglass for Emori and fished two beers out of the fridge for he and Bellamy before moving to Clarke's side. "Okay Clarke," excitement lit his face with almost childlike glee. "I had some new ideas for our matching tattoos."

"It better not be two halves of an avocado again," Octavia pulled a face. "As weirdly cute as that could be, it didn't suit either of you." Murphy was pulling a face at her before the sentence was even finished.

"John's been unnecessarily jealous of the fact these two got friendship tattoos, " Emori explained to the confused couple, motioning between Clarke and Octavia. "It's been an ongoing thing for a month now. His last idea involved the Mad Hatter from Wonderland. Every day he has a new crazy idea that he would happily have inked onto his skin forever," her tone suggested she was exasperated but the soft set of her features told a different story.

Bellamy finally zeroed in on the counterpart to his sister's colourful sun tattoo. Just below the bend of her right elbow, Clarke had a splash of blues and greens and the black outline of a C-shaped crescent moon. He caught himself running his thumb over the leather cuff that covered his own tattoo.

"PB and J," Murphy's declaration caused Bellamy to tune back in.

"Like two halves of a sandwich? " Clarke looked confused.

"No like two slices of bread, one with jam and the other with peanut butter."

"So one of us is sweet and one is salty? " Clarke raised her eyebrows teasingly and grinned.

"Tin can phones on a string?" Murphy was not discouraged.

"More appropriate if we'd known each other since childhood, don't you think?"

"High school isn't close enough?"

"I hardly think either of us considered ourselves children at that point in our lives."

"True enough," Murphy sighed dramatically. They had originally bonded over the fact that their fathers had both been, and later both died, in jail. "Last option, paper planes."

Clarke paused. Then a look of consideration passed over her face. "You did like throwing those around our classrooms."

"Especially when you had drawn caricatures on them." Murphy grinned widely.

"We were both lucky I was the top student," Clarke retorted dryly.

"You would have been bored without me." Clarke rolled her eyes at his Cheshire grin but Murphy's attention was diverted when he spotted Octavia trying to take a peak at his bread and he practically pounced on her to stop her, spouting something about how it had to stay covered to keep warm.

With a shake of her head at the bickering that ensued, Clarke turned away and caught Bellamy's eye. She smiled tentatively and was relieved when he reciprocated and moved closer to her. "How are you liking living in Polis?" she tested the waters.

Bellamy glanced at his sister and his edges visibly softened. "It's nice to be close to her again."

Clarke sent a fond look Octavia's way. "I'm glad she has you back in her life."

He didn't know how to touch that topic so he settled for something simple and, he had to admit to himself, a small test to see if she was really willing to work things out between them. "Have you been here in Polis for all of the last six years?"

"No." Her expression wilted subtly, he would have missed it if he hadn't been looking. "I was on deployment for nine months, spent a few weeks either side of it at the military base in Azgeda and then settled here in Polis almost five years ago now where I met Madi. Our place is actually only a few blocks away."

"Clarke Griffin living in suburbia." Bellamy couldn't help but tease.

"Who would have thought it, right?" A small smile of disbelief lit her face. "But when you inherit a house and have a kid to look after, you do what must be done, right?"

"Right," Bellamy grinned lopsidedly, secretly elated that their conversation seemed to be flowing easily this time around. "Inherited?" He wondered.

Clarke made a noise of agreement as she took a sip of her wine. "Turns out my father had a well-off aunt who didn't have children of her own. So almost four years ago now her lawyer tracked me down and kindly informed me that I had a great aunt who had been adamant her house go to a Griffin and not any of her gold-digging dead-beat step children."

"What if you'd been a dead-beat?" Bellamy huffed out a laugh.

"My thoughts exactly," Clarke shrugged, brushing a fingertip absently over the bridge of her nose. "Especially since I wasn't far off. The shop was picking up business but all my money was tied up between that and Madi."

Bellamy thought it might be too early on to question that in any kind of depth so he picked a safer subject. "Did you ever meet this great aunt of yours?"

"No!" Clarke gave him a helpless, owl-eyed look that left him fighting off a laugh. "Makes no sense. But it gave me a better shot at adopting Madi so I'm not complaining."

It suddenly occurred to Bellamy that Clarke seemed to be trying to divert focus off herself by mentioning Madi. He was unsure, however, whether she was intentionally doing it or completely unaware.

Her eyes skimmed over his face, noticing the sudden change in his attitude and then skittered away. She took another sip of her wine and caught Echo's attention. "So Roan mentioned the annual squad paint balling event next weekend, will the two of you be attending?"

"I will be," Echo smiled at Clarke's attempt to draw her into the conversation. "But I've been having trouble convincing Bellamy to come along."

"Paint ball?" Murphy perked up.

"Paint ball with a bunch of cops and some of their significant others," Clarke grinned at him. "Scrappy as you may be Murphy, they would slaughter you."

"Especially when Clarke and Roan are together," Echo lamented while Murphy shuddered violently at the idea. "Last year their team won by a landslide because they go all competitive soldier mode. Can I ask to be on your team from now?"

"I remember you and Ontari holding your own pretty well last year," Clarke's eyebrows rose.

"Ontari isn't very good at team bonding," Echo commented blandly. "She's even worse at losing to Roan."

"Yeah I had a nice tender bruise for a week after she accidentally shot me when we won," Clarke's unimpressed expression said it all.

"She does seem to aim anywhere but the vest so you'll remember losing for days afterwards," Echo's lips twisted at the unpleasantness of it.

"The year before was the worst," Clarke reminisced with a barely suppressed shudder. "I don't think you were there that year. She got me twice in the ass. Roan was not happy."

"Is that what that grudge was about?" Echo's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Nobody would tell me what happened."

Clarke was nodding but was given no chance to respond when Madi came bouncing excitedly into the room, Lincoln lumbering behind her sporting two extra chairs he immediately positioned at the dinning table. Bellamy watched his student give quick, affectionate greetings to the people she was familiar with, shooting through the room like some kind of bouncing missile, and then attaching herself to Clarke for a long, tight hug. The way their bodies were angled, Bellamy couldn't see Clarke's face, but Madi's expression told him how much she adored her mother.

Lincoln momentarily distracted him with his greeting, but he was aware enough to hear Madi ticking off some kind of verbal checklist about remembering to lock everything up and activate the alarm, so Bellamy could only surmise that the additional chairs had come from the Griffin household.

Seconds later Madi was turning and grinning at he and Echo. "I'm Madi," the teenager stuck her hand out to his girlfriend. "You must be Echo."

"Yes." A smile unwittingly stole across Echo's lips while her hand was being enthusiastically shaken.

"I heard you work with Roan. He said you were one of his best," Madi went on. "That's pretty cool."

"Thanks," Echo phrased it almost as a question, appearing somewhat steamrollered by the teen.

Madi's vivid eyes, almost as piercingly blue as her mother's, swung back to him. "Do I still have to call you Mr Blake when we socialize as family?" she queried.

His heart gave a little extra thump that she had so easily referred to him as family, and he shook his head, warm affection threatening to make him visibly emotional.

"Awesome," Madi grinned and spun away, moving off to speak to Murphy.

Bellamy turned back to Clarke, who was watching him with an amused quirk to her lips.

"She's something special," she reminded him, tenderness giving her a warm glow he had never seen on her skin before. It looked wonderful on her.

"Motherhood looks good on you," he stated, almost reverently, before he could stop himself.

Clarke looked surprised for a second before melting into a smile. Then she seemed to catch herself, cleared her throat and reached to take a sip of wine, her eyes traveling the room. She was putting distance between them, he could almost visibly see it and a frown came to his face. They had been doing so well, it had been as natural as ever, and when Echo called for his attention, he almost snapped at her before he caught himself.

Lincoln had started to collect necessities to set the table and Murphy and Clarke moved off to help. This sight caused something in Bellamy to die a little as he finally noticed that Clarke and Murphy were so comfortable in his sister's home they didn't require any prompting or aid to find things, they seemed to just know where everything was, something he himself couldn't do.

It left him feeling like something of an outsider.

Echo quietly asked him if he was doing alright, but all he could manage was a shake of his head. He had been managing just fine while his attention had been focused on Clarke, but it was really unfair to the woman standing at his side that he had let himself sink into the comfort of the past. The ease with which Clarke had pulled away was a stark reminder that those six years were lying between them.

He leaned closer to Echo to drop a quick kiss on her hairline, and she smiled, seeming to be satisfied by the small gesture. Blonde hair caught on the edge of his vision and he shifted to watch Clarke while she helped with the table setting, talking quietly to Lincoln and Murphy.

"Bell," Octavia moved to his side.

A noise of acknowledgement left his throat but his sister refused to speak until he turned to her, her gaze a steady brand. When his eyes finally met hers she jerked her head to the side and led him to a corner away from everybody else.

"That wasn't her pulling away," Octavia stated once they were out of earshot, as though she had suddenly become able to read his mind.

"What was it then?" he muttered testily.

"I'd say she's just protecting herself," Octavia's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "It's one of the things she does best these days."

"From me?" Bellamy's eyes narrowed harshly.

"From everyone Bell," his sister sighed resignedly. "You haven't given her a reason to think you want to be friends again, so she's going to keep distance between you," her voice dropped so only he could hear her. "After the group fallout Clarke didn't really trust me, not like she did Lincoln. She had convinced herself I was only there for her because of Lincoln, and maybe a little bit because she was worried about me being a link to you. Can you imagine how that must have been for her?"

The bottom of Bellamy's stomach dropped out and he shot a glance over his shoulder at Clarke, silently laying out cutlery.

"You can either not try to force a sense of the old normal on her, or you can take a chance," Octavia went on, still watching him carefully. "But don't take a chance because you're curious. Bell, it may feel like a blind leap of faith, but I honestly believe that with a little trust, the two of you can be friends again. Even up to this point, six years on, I've never seen Clarke trust anyone the way she trusted you. If you're sincere, there's still hope."

Just like that hope was blossoming like a flower within him. Could it be as simple as him needing any part of her she was willing to give? Six years of proof that he could get by without her existed - he had lived through them after all - but he had missed her, and it would be so easy to let that hope take root.

A knock sounded, indicating Miller and Jackson's arrival, the pair not familiar enough with Octavia's home to know about her casual open door concept. "I got it," Bellamy moved off, not able to stop himself from glancing at Clarke from the corner of his eye as he passed by her on the way to the door and observing that she appeared to be studiously avoiding looking up from her task. When he glanced back while opening the door, she had disappeared back into the kitchen despite most of the group now congregating primarily in the dining room.

Miller slapped him on the shoulder in greeting and announced they had brought a dessert that needed to stay cold. He made quick work of saying hello and Bellamy directed him to the kitchen when Jackson was immediately pulled into conversation with Echo, Emori and Murphy.

"Hello stranger," Miller grinned when they interrupted Octavia and Clarke leaning back against the bench sipping wine and chatting quietly. Unbidden, jealousy filtered into Bellamy's gut. How many times in the past had that been his place at Clarke's side sharing private conversations for their ears only? Now it seemed to be his sister's.

"Miller," Clarke smiled hesitantly and then with warm relief when Miller put his contribution down and pulled her into a tight hug. "It's good to see you."

Anger wasn't the right word for the emotion that threatened to consume Bellamy with the easy greetings passing between the man that was his oldest friend and the woman who had been his closest friend.

"Octavia mentioned you moved out here for work?" Clarke went on, her voice light. "You started working with your dad after you retired from soccer?"

"Yeah, our Polis branch suddenly lost its manager about a year ago and they sent me out here to find a replacement," Miller rolled his eyes and his grin widened. "Then of course, I met a guy and ended up deciding to take over the position instead."

"And the rest is history?" Bellamy was glad to know that Clarke could still smile like that, as though the world was a miraculous place.

"Something like that," Miller nodded along, beaming. "Turns out the phrase isn't wrong when they say 'when you know, you know'."

"Must be nice," Clarke murmured, a distinct lack of emotion in her voice as she brought her wineglass back to her lips.

Jackson stuck his head into the kitchen. "Here, this is him," Miller's smile turned adoring as he spotted his boyfriend. "Clarke meet Eric."

Clarke's eyes met Jackson's and she choked on the sip of wine she'd just taken. "Jackson?" she managed to get out between coughs, Octavia pounding her on the back.

"Clarke?" Jackson's expression shifted from surprised to delighted and he was pulling her into a quick, tight hug in moments, before holding her at arms length. "Look how good you're looking!" he flicked at the tips of her hair with one finger. "This is a much better look on you," he chuckled. "Last time I saw you-"

"Yeah," Clarke cut him off, a look that was somewhere between horrified and ashamed taking hold of her features. "I don't know what I was thinking."

There was such a thing as a bad look on Clarke? Bellamy wasn't sure he could believe it.

"You two know each other?" Miller drew their attention.

"Oh I've known Clarke for almost twenty years," Jackson chuckled. "Remember when I told you about volunteering at a hospital when I was in high school? Clarke's mum was one of the chief surgeons there. She later became my mentor during my internship and residency."

"Abby is Clarke's mum?" Miller's eyebrows shot up.

"Clarke used to visit sometimes. She was so cute, bringing along drawings to cheer up Abby's patients," Jackson teased. "Jeez you must have been only eight or nine when I met you?"

"Something like that," Clarke laughed. "Pretty sure I saw more of you than my mother when I was a teenager."

Jackson's expression turned empathetic. "Jake was always the glue and the sanity in the Griffin household. Abby just wasn't the same after."

"None of us were," Clarke nodded along, visibly fighting back her emotions.

A heavy silence fell around them, and Bellamy looked on feeling strangely unaccustomed to the fact that there was now someone among them who had known Jake Griffin. Someone who had known the Clarke who had existed before Jake's death. Even Murphy and Raven, who had known Clarke since high school, couldn't attest to that.

"So how come I never knew about this connection?" Miller had always detested long silences. "You've both been living in Polis for how long now?"

"Well, five years ago someone swore up and down that if she never saw me again it would be too soon," Jackson pouted lightheartedly, but shot Clarke a pointed stare.

"Who told you to be my surgeon?" Clarke retorted, sulkily.

Surgeon? Jackson had been her surgeon? Bellamy had to take a deep breath to stave off the rising panic at what that could possibly mean.

"Who told you to be such a horrible patient?" Jackson retorically returned, affection heavy in his voice.

"Something happened that required surgery?" Miller pried and Clarke and Octavia exchanged a look.

"I had an issue and your man fixed it," Clarke finally replied, not meeting anyone's eyes. "I'd rather not get into it tonight."

Jackson was qualified as both an orthopedic and trauma surgeon. Clarke's response and Octavia's warnings only had the panic threatening to spill over as Bellamy imagined the multitude of possible issues she could have had that required surgery.

A hand slipped into his and Bellamy glanced down to find Echo had joined him at some point. "Whatever it was, she's fine now," Echo whispered reassuringly into his ear.

His girlfriend really was amazing, Bellamy thought, taking deep calming breaths and nodding at her. He pressed a lingering kiss to her hair and shifted them out of the room to rejoin the others, even as a large part of him screamed to turn back in case there were any other great Clarke revelations he shouldn't miss.

Dinner was served not long after and for the first time in longer than he cared to remember, it felt like they had a healthy family again. And it was nice really, sitting around his sister's table with so many people, enjoying good food and good company. So nice, he could almost forget the separation. Even sitting at the opposite end of the table to Clarke rather than beside her as he always had in the past.

There was the part of him that wished he could stop himself from glancing in Clarke's direction so often, the part that seemed to be scared he'd look up and she wouldn't really be there. And there was another part of him that wanted to be involved in the conversations she was having with the people sitting closer to her, but he could barely keep track of the conversations happening right beside him.

Then, halfway through dessert, when he had finally managed to convince himself to stop checking on her, he glanced up after just a few minutes and alarm shot through him when he saw Clarke had disappeared from the table without a word, conversation continuing as if nothing was amiss. Something was being silently exchanged between his sister and Murphy, their eyebrows moving pointedly at each other, before Lincoln shook his head at them both and followed quietly in the direction Clarke must have gone.

Bellamy couldn't quite make out if this was a usual occurrence or not, but then his sister seemed to be studiously avoiding meeting his questioning gaze, so he could only surmise that Clarke's behaviour must somehow be related to him. It turned out to be a moot point really, because they were only gone for a few minutes before they returned carrying another pot of tea for the table and he couldn't figure out if this was a cover for something larger or the reason Clarke had gotten up.

After dessert was finished and everything was packed away and put to rights, with full bellies and a lot of cheer, everyone seemed to make to leave at the same time.

Clarke and Madi were bidding their goodbyes, Clarke offering Bellamy a tentative smile and small wave, but before Bellamy had a chance to reciprocate Murphy was inviting himself to stay the night in the Griffin household.

"Do I get a say in that decision?" Emori wondered dryly.

"Took the words right out of my mouth," Clarke agreed.

"Nope," Murphy grinned cheerily at them. "We've both had a lot to drink tonight and I'm not driving home, we'll just pick up the car in the morning." There was something in the glance he shot at Emori that looked like some sort of hint to Bellamy before the woman agreed and the four of them waved their farewells and headed off in the direction Bellamy presumed the Griffin house was located, chatting animatedly.

Bellamy walked Miller to his car when his former teammate motioned for him to follow.

"Did Clarke tell you much about her parents back before everything?" Miller wondered when they were out of earshot.

"A little, why?" Bellamy frowned, confused by the topic.

"You might want to consider looking into it," Miller told him. "Abigail Griffin is one of the most highly respected, highly sought after and most over-educated doctors in the country. She's dabbled in almost every field of medicine at some point and is currently making headway in some kind of genetics research I understand nothing about. Over the last decade there have been several incidents that may have impacted Clarke. It might give you some clues about potential issues Clarke has had to deal with over the last few years?"

"Last I heard Clarke didn't have anything to do with her mum," Bellamy wondered if he could have missed another big event. But the idea of her having reconciled with her mother actually made the little bit of hope grow larger within him. If she had forgiven her mother after everything, perhaps it wouldn't be such a stretch for them to make up.

Miller just shrugged. "Just a suggestion mate. And a head's up because remember those overlaps we were talking about last night? I didn't originally meet Abby through Jackson, I met her through Marcus Kane."

"As in the owner of your dad's company?" Bellamy's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"As in the biggest name in security this side of the equator," Miller corrected him with a smirk. "He has his hands in multiple businesses, all highly successful, and I'm pretty sure he's part owner in the company Raven works for, just to prove how big a deal he is. Because half his money is tied up in charities and he's actually a decent human being they've been trying to get him to go into politics ever since Jaha was ousted. He is also now Clarke's stepfather."

That gave Bellamy pause. He knew Clarke had come from money but if her family was that big and she hadn't told him...had he just failed to understand or had she avoided the topic because she knew he had come from nothing? He shook that thought from his head. He didn't fully know or understand the Clarke of the present, but if his anger couldn't tarnish his memories with her over so many years, he wouldn't let it do so now just because he found out something about the family she hadn't even been on speaking terms with in the past.

Suddenly shocked by the thought, Bellamy took a moment. No matter how angry he had been with her, the act of pushing thoughts and emotions aside meant he really hadn't let himself stain the memories of what had been some of the best times of his life. It meant he wasn't glorifying the past her now, as a tiny part of him had feared. It meant he was more angry over the silence and division of the last six years. It meant there was hope if he just made an effort to get to know the person she had become.

A resolution formed and a smile came to his lips. He looked in the direction Clarke had disappeared. There was still hope. And he was pretty sure he could work with that.

Chapter Text

Another week passed by, and Clarke hadn't needed to see or speak to Bellamy throughout that week. She had seen him from afar at Madi's soccer game where they had exchanged friendly, but distant smiles that caused something inside her to die just a little.

And then she went on to survive another family dinner where they made polite, detached conversation before claiming seats at opposite ends of the dining table. From there, she had to pretend that seeing him looking all content and settled and affectionate with the incredible human that was his girlfriend didn't unhinge her at all.

When Echo had smiled tentatively and informed her they'd both be seeing her the following day at the team bonding paintball session, Clarke's first instinct had been to find an excuse to no longer attend. But then she reminded herself that she had been attending with Roan for the last five years, and not going for whatever fictional reason she could come up with would be more unusual than just sucking it up and participating. If Bellamy and Echo ended up on her team, they would end up split up anyway, and if they weren't, she would barely see them.

It made her almost physically weak when Roan pulled up to pick her and Madi up at the moment she should have been making some kind of falsely enthusiastic reply. He didn't get out of his truck, just lifted his hand in greeting to her family and greeted Madi with their usual fist bump as she hopped cheerfully into the back seat.

Clarke bid a quick farewell without properly looking at anyone, and climbed into the passenger seat beside him. Roan took her hand and squeezed it in reassurance, before putting the truck in gear and pulling away.

Her steadily mounting anxiety of the past few weeks was causing her to have waves of mild panic that kept her tossing and turning most of the night before she fell into a fitful sleep where she dreamed of blood and the rattle of a last breath. And so, for a few terrifying seconds, when she first opened her eyes the following morning, she had no idea where she was. That should have been her first clue to how the rest of her day was going to go.

Breakfast was a fairly standard affair where Madi spent most of the time either recounting some teenage amusement or another, or listening to Roan's stories about his latest cases. Not for the first time, Clarke wondered why, as a teenager, she had thought life would be easier once she was an adult. Then they dropped her off with Octavia on their way to the local paintball field.

And so, here she was, strapping into her paintball gear, getting panicked flashes of being strapped into her military gear with the world falling apart around her.

Roan's hand covered hers where her fingers had been subconsciously drumming away on the air gun, and kept it gripped tightly between them. "You've been jittery since I showed up last night," he murmured, stepping closer so no one could overhear. "Are you sure you want to participate?"

Clarke took in a deep inhale and then expelled it before she answered. "We won't know until I try," was all she could offer, demoralising as it may be.

"If you change your mind, I'll stick close so just let me know," he shot her a mischievous, dimpled grin. "Or just get yourself shot, I'm sure Ontari will be happy to oblige you."

She leveled her gun at him with a glare to show she didn't appreciate his humour, but was certain a smile was threatening to break through to ruin the effect.

As Roan stood, still grinning, with his hands up in mock surrender, Bellamy caught on the edge of her vision and the agitated butterflies erupted in her gut again. She turned her head without a conscious decision to do so, and met his eyes for a tense moment before looking away.

She could do this. She had done worse things in her life than spending some time with the person she had most missed and his impressive girlfriend. "Let's get this over with," she said on a sigh.

Ever the commanding sort, Roan corralled their fellow participants in to listen to a worker go over the rules and safety procedures for the site as well as the equipment they would be using. Before long the teams were drawn, as per usual Roan and Ontari were two of the three team captains, and Clarke wasn't sure if she was more relieved or disappointed to end up on a different team to Bellamy. Teams moved off in different directions and strategies were discussed and decided upon.

As soon as the starting gun went off, Clarke knew she had made a mistake. She shouldn't have come today. It was just paintball, but every time she took aim and shot someone visions flashed through her mind. Flickers of memories of the smell of burning flesh and seeping blood. The muffled sounds of shouted orders and screams of fear and pain, of guns rattling and the groan and screech of a vehicle rolling.

Clarke ducked behind a tree and tried to catch her breath. She fought with her spiraling emotions, reminded herself she wasn't a soldier anymore, tried to count her breaths only to find she suddenly couldn't remember how to count. Her guts were starting to cramp alarmingly now, and the back of her throat burned. Tears stung at her eyes. "No!" She swallowed it all back down, whacking her fist into the bark behind her hard enough to break skin. She was not a slave to this reaction! She would not succumb to it!

Someone stepped into the edge of her field of vision and she raised the airgun on reflex, heart skittering, finger moving on the trigger until her gaze made contact with a shade of brown she would always remember and she froze, locked in place.

"Bellamy," was whispered on an exhale before her eyes widened. Her mouth went dry as the Sahara and her lungs constricted painfully. She couldn't shoot Bellamy, not even with a stupid paintball...and he didn't seem to be shooting her either, just staring at her in alarm.

Unbidden, she pictured him in military gear on tour with her, an enemy gun trained on him, an instant away from a death she had seen too many of her comrades face and her body went ice cold, the burning in her throat making a resurgence. The black crowding into the edges of her vision and the ringing in her ears was a dead giveaway. She was on the verge of passing out.

"Clarke?" Bellamy's voice trickled through from a great distance.

"R-Roan," she grit out between desperate attempts to take a full breath around the elephant that had taken up residence in her chest.

* * * * * * *

* * Flashback * *

"Stop apologising," Bellamy chuckled as he pressed the back of his hand to her burning forehead. "I'm the one who chose to stay here and look after you."

"You should not be here looking after me on New Year's Eve," Clarke rasped, the last word dissolving into a coughing fit.

"Well then, you shouldn't have gotten caught in sleet," he teased, pulling the blankets up higher on her shoulder where she lay facing him on her side.

"Who told you to give me a wonderful Christmas present that required frames?" Clarke sulked.

"Well, who told you to catch the bus when I have a perfectly good car and could have given you a lift?" He had collected a few small watercolour paintings from the recent places he'd been in Europe for his matches. They usually charged tourists an arm and a leg for them, but luckily he had a working knowledge of Spanish after six years living primarily in Spain, and a web of local friends in various cities who knew the best places to go without getting swindled. Clarke's delight upon opening the gift had been worth all the effort and every Euro he had spent. "Besides, I'd much rather spend tonight with you and my new books." Of course Clarke had reciprocated with a collection of hard cover classics.

"You just don't want to watch your underage sister get drunk and make out with her boyfriend." Clarke retorted. "I've heard the stories. You like a good party. Booze, hot girls and one-night-stands are right in your wheelhouse."

"Have you been talking to Miller?" Bellamy narrowed suspicious eyes at her.

"Our friends are prone to gossip, you know." Clarke rolled her eyes at him, then followed with a groan and reached up to rub her temples.

"Speaking of gossip," he tried to change the subject, not entirely comfortable discussing his sex life with her. "O was going on about how you wouldn't let them throw you a party for your twenty-first birthday. So do you have a problem with birthdays? Or with fun? Be honest Princess."

"I can be fun," Clarke let out an offended huff. "And it's just celebrating my birthday that I have an issue with."

"And why's that, Princess?" Bellamy raised his eyebrows at her. "And don't think O hasn't mentioned that somehow none of our friends seem to know when your birthday is."

"They know when it is," Clarke was pouting again and he couldn't help but laugh at her.

"Knowing it's some time in October doesn't really count as knowing though, does it?" he argued, more curious now than ever. "Swear me to secrecy if you must, but I'd at least like to know why you don't like to celebrate it."

"My mother always worked on my birthday," she let out a heavy sigh. "Most of the time she wouldn't even remember it was my birthday."

"I can relate to that," Bellamy nodded along, knowing instinctively that there was more to it. "More often than not Mum wouldn't remember mine. I don't even remember the last time she was around on one of my birthdays. On the plus side she didn't start forgetting O's until she was in high school."

"When's yours then?"

"Twenty-second June," he told her.

"So you don't get it," she whined, actually whined, in a very un~Clarke like manner. He was willing to let it pass given that she was sick. "You've never been so completely overshadowed -"

"Did you not hear me just now when I said my mum stopped remembering my birthday long before my sister's?" he couldn't help but retort.

But Clarke went on as if he hadn't interrupted her. "- and you certainly haven't ever been told you were cursed, or that you must be a witch. Or unlucky!"

How was unlucky the one with most emphasis in her list? He had just physically jolted when she admitted to being told she was cursed! ...And then it clicked. She had started referring to herself as being twenty-one when October was over. Her mother always worked, implying it was busy. Being cursed or a witch, and overshadowed was pretty self-evident. Most obvious of all was the fact that Murphy had spent the better part of November complaining about how much Clarke hated Halloween, his favourite event of the year.

"Halloween," he pieced together. "Your birthday is on Halloween?"

Clarke's only response was to sulkily burrow deeper into her blankets. "Kids are mean. Once it was known my birthday parties weren't costume parties despite it being Halloween no one ever wanted to show up. Then it somehow got out that my own mother wouldn't celebrate it and suddenly I was cursed. Then of course there's my dad."

Here was the real reason, Bellamy was sure before she even admitted it.

"He was stabbed in prison on the eve of my birthday. He didn't immediately die but he was in a coma for three weeks before my mum elected to take him off life support."

He couldn't hug her in their current positions, so he rested his hand on top of her head, a little thrill going through him when she seemed to turn up into the touch. "I'm so sorry for that, Princess."

"It's not like it was your fault," she gave a little shrug. "Just don't tell anyone."

"Promise," he swore, smiling down at her. "But don't think I'm not going to be buying you presents from now on."

"Glad to hear you plan to stick around, Blake," she commented dryly.

Bellamy made a considering noise in his throat. "I'm not sure I can imagine life without you anymore, Clarke. You've just fit in to it too easily."

"I forget sometimes that you've only known me a few months," Clarke admitted, glancing up at him with a little smile. "We're both a little weird, right?"

"Maybe," Bellamy grinned down at her. "Or maybe we both just needed a person without knowing it."

"Needed a person?" she raised her eyebrows at him.

Bellamy shrugged. "Someone you don't need to pretend with. Miller is the closest thing I've ever had to a best friend and he doesn't know half the stuff I've told you."

"I get it," she smiled, then sneezed and they both laughed at the timing. "My person or not, I'd still feel better if you weren't giving up your New Year's Eve to babysit me."

"No matter what anyone tells you, as much as I like a good party and a casual hookup, I really do love spending quiet time like this. I can't remember the last time I managed to spend a quiet night just reading," he put as much sincerity into his voice as he could. "Besides, I can be a controlling asshole and the idea of leaving you home alone with no one to take care of you would have weighed on me all night."

"I really am used to looking after myself though," Clarke sighed, but the mist he could see in her eyes told him he'd struck a cord.

"And tonight you don't have to," he patted her head. "Especially considering how quickly our supposed friends disappeared upon hearing you weren't feeling well."

"That should have clued you in that I'm usually a horrible patient," Clarke shot him a dry look. "Besides, have you met our friends? They all have horrible bedside manners. Your sister is somehow the one who's best suited to playing nurse."

"Words I never thought I'd hear in relation to my sister." Bellamy chuckled, pride swelling in his chest.

"Take it as a compliment." Clarke patted at his thigh. "It means you always did an amazing job looking after her when she was ill."

That tugged at his heartstrings. "Thanks Princess."

She made an 'mmmhm' noise and snuggled into her blankets.

That she dozed off shortly after gave him a moment to glance around her room, something that only made him smile at how Clarke everything was. From the easel in the corner with a half finished landscape, to the blackboard-painted wall covered in chalk drawings of Christmas images, to the sketchbooks and papers scattered all across her makeshift desk.

A pamphlet about Germany on the corner of her nightstand caught his eye and he pulled it closer having a quick read through it with a rising interest and excitement. "Clarke, what's this?" he shook her shoulder for her attention.

She squinted at the paper in his hand, grumbling at him for waking her when she was almost properly asleep. "The UN hosts a workshop every year at their base hospital in Germany. It's kind of like a training and good relations program for army medics. Unfortunately, there's only so many spots."

"So you'd be in Europe for how long?" He was getting ahead of himself, he knew, but the idea of having her on the same continent as him for an extended period of time was already making him so excited.

"Six to eight months," she smiled at his apparent excitement. "It acts as a kind of deployment, I guess, we get the occasional week off. The main difference being we get weekends to ourselves. Would that be of interest to you?"

"To be able to show you Europe and get to spend time with you regularly? Hell yes," he grinned at her. "These last few months say otherwise because of holidays but I usually only get time to come and visit O every two to three months during the season. It would be so nice to have family closer to me."

She gave him a fond little smile. "I guess it's a good thing I applied then."

Bellamy couldn't help but beam. "This is great! How soon will you know? How soon does it even start?"

Clarke gave a wide yawn followed by a fit of sneezes. "Can we talk about it in the morning?"

"Sure, Princess," he agreed with great reluctance. "Get some rest. I'll be right here if you need me."

The smile she gave him as she dozed off again had him softening with affection, and he pulled out his phone to start making lists of all the places he knew she would want to see when she made it to Europe.

* * End Flashback * *

Bellamy didn't know what was happening. He hadn't even seen Clarke until she had raised her airgun at him, and had initially been confused when she didn't immediately shoot him. But next thing he knew she was going almost transparently pale and was clearly struggling for air. She had barely managed to get Roan's name out and all he could do was frantically scan the area for the detective who was suddenly appearing from nowhere and bodily hauling Clarke to a more secluded spot in the shade, where he proceeded to sit her on a rock and shove her head down between her knees while her whole body violently tremored.

Overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness, Bellamy watched on while Roan crouched beside her and methodically striped away her protective vest and pulled the collar open at Clarke's throat and upper chest at an almost desperate pace before he took his fingers to her wrist and hand and began to massage at points on both.

"You got cold water?" Roan shot Bellamy a harsh, concentrated look.

Bellamy pulled the small water bottle from a pocket of his supplied cargo pants and unscrewed the lid, noticing the violent trembling of his own hands as he offered it out. He had to wonder why he couldn't seem to get any words out. When had he forgotten how to form sounds?

"Either wet some fabric or trickle it a cap-full at a time over the back of her neck," Roan's voice was completely devoid of anything as he gave his orders forcefully enough to get Bellamy moving.

Rushing to complete the task, Bellamy pulled the coloured bandana from his bicep and wet it, laying it carefully over the back of Clarke's exposed neck. Then he stood by uselessly and fretted, straining to hear what Roan was whispering to Clarke in a reassuring tone of voice just that bit too quietly for Bellamy to pick up.

"What happened?" Roan softly questioned when Clarke seemed to be taking deeper breaths and the frightening shaking had grown less frequent.

"I don't know," Bellamy's voice was hoarse even to his ears and he tried and failed to explain what had just happened.

Roan let out a long, strained sigh. "I should have known better than to let her participate today," he seemed to be berating himself. "I could tell she's been too anxious lately."

"You say that as if you could have stopped her," Bellamy hissed, anger rising. People didn't tell Clarke what to do and a little anxiety had never stopped her before...though he had to admit what he had just watched had gone far beyond any anxiety he had ever seen her have before.

"And you say that as if you know what's actually going on!" Roan retorted, his voice holding a solid punch despite the quiet tone. "She's been having nightmares again-"

"She's always had nightmares and anxiety," Bellamy was glaring darkly now, automatically defensive about the very idea of knowing Clarke less than Roan. "How does that translate to whatever the hell I just witnessed?"

Clarke's tremors picked up again, they'd agitated her, and Roan hissed, "Later," before adopting his soothing tone again, whispering to Clarke for several tense moments. When she quieted down again he asked her if she could swallow properly, which seemed an odd question to Bellamy but Clarke's head moved in an affirmative motion. "Do you mind sharing water with Bellamy?"

"Bellamy?" He could hear the stress in Clarke's muffled voice when she said his name and her breathing started to get erratic once more.

He reacted without thinking, gripping her free hand. "I'm right here Clarke, please just breathe easy. I don't think any less of you. I've seen you in far worse condition, haven't I, Princess? The night we met comes to mind. Then there was the time you were sick over our first New Year's together, you pouted through a high fever and almost threw up all over me, twice. And remember Paris? We got drunk and both tried to hit on that girl that turned out to be very realistic graffiti? O of course got the whole thing on camera."

Clarke squeezed his hand and something that resembled a hysterical chuckle came out of her. "I could have done without remembering that incident."

The peculiar look Roan was giving him was making Bellamy uncomfortable, but Clarke's hand in his, for the first time in six years, was giving him the most bizarre sense of home. "Bellamy, come rub her pressure points here and here," he shifted and showed Bellamy exactly what he had been doing.

Bellamy was loathe to let go of her hand, but was thankful for something useful to do.

Next thing he knew, Roan had produced some pills and was handing them to Clarke, claiming Bellamy's water bottle for her as she straightened slowly and took a gulp of water before raising the pills to her mouth, and Bellamy had to look away then, abruptly having horrible visions of Clarke having to rely on pills and if he kept thinking like this he would be the one having a panic attack. But then Clarke's fingers closed over his to stop his motions and she slid to sit in the dirt, back pressed to the rock she had previously been sitting on.

Roan settled in next to her and she leaned into his side, head on his shoulder eyes closed. Within moments she seemed to have fallen asleep, her whole body going limp.

Bellamy, however, couldn't seem to move, still crouched with his fingers on her pressure points. Taking deep breaths, he tried to sort through the mess that were his thoughts and emotions, hoping to form a coherent sentence when he next opened his mouth.

"She doesn't see it," Roan's voice broke through his thoughts, his vivid eyes completely focused on Bellamy as though he had been studying his reactions. "And she certainly may not seem it. But she's stronger now than ever."

He didn't know how to respond to that until he glanced back down at Clarke, finally appearing peaceful again. "She was always stronger than she gave herself credit for," he finally stated, matter of fact, because Clarke had always been the strongest person he knew.

"Not when I met her," Roan glanced down at her. "Not entirely anyway," he amended. "She'd been through too much already, and anyone could see she was barely hanging on by a thread, if they looked closely enough. To this day I don't know why the Brass hadn't sent her home with all the incidents she'd lived through. But I assume it was because she was good at what she did, and never wanted to leave a man behind. I respected her long before I liked her."

Bellamy's eyes flicked from Roan, keen - and a little desperate - to hear anything he would divulge, to Clarke, because really he couldn't keep himself from checking she was still doing okay.

"She saved my life once."

Bellamy dragged his attention away from Clarke to stare at Roan. "I didn't know that."

"We were stationed at the same base during our last deployment," Roan summarised. "Clarke replaced the medic on my team during a transport assignment that went south. The lead Hum-V in our convoy was hit by an IED. The force caused it to hit our hummer which then flipped, and we were pinned down by enemy fire and trapped. Clarke crawled out first; cutting my belt so I could crawl out after her. She made me pop her shoulder back into place as if it got dislocated every damn day. And then she turns to a young private, he was having a full blown panic attack and she just forced him to look at her, told him he would live before shoving his gun in his hands and telling me she needed cover. I'll never forget it. She got three guys out of that first truck and all of them survived. And then I got cocky and managed to get myself shot. She was the only thing that kept me alive. We didn't even know she'd been hit too until we all made it back to base safely. She was given an honorable discharge after that. We both were since I ended up with multiple shattered bones and a metal plate in my face," he ran his finger along the mean scar that curved from the corner of his eye and under the curve of his cheek.

Imagining Clarke being involved in the situation that had resulted in such an intimidating scar, knowing now that she had lived through that, and hadn't come away uninjured, was giving him heart palpitations. He had to pinch himself, hard, to try to focus on the Now and not have his own meltdown. He exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging. He hated that he hadn't been there for her. He couldn't seem to help anyone. He'd barely been able to help himself and now he hated himself even more for it. "So what I just witnessed?"

"Is nothing compared to her original panic attacks," Roan reached across to push a blonde lock back off her face. "But thankfully, because of a lot of hard work, this is the first one she's had all year. They've been happening less frequently over the years."

"The pills-?" he choked on the word.

"Make her drowsy," Roan nodded along. "She'll be a bit of a zombie for the next few days - her words - which she hates, but it also means she'll be calm enough to sleep peacefully and recover at a healthier pace instead of just trying to push through it." His eyes swung to Bellamy's, a serious look in them. "Let's be clear. I'm only telling you this because you mean something to her and it seems you're going to be back in her life now. You need to know how to deal with this if it ever happens again."

Just to complicate matters more, Roan had to tell him he means something to Clarke. As if he needed another thing to try and process after today.

"You know," Roan's voice broke him out of his thoughts once again. "I called her Princess once, as a joke shortly after I first met her. She punched me, and now I know why."

"What?" Bellamy frowned, confused about the relevance of his old nickname for Clarke. How did Roan even know about it?

"You called her Princess earlier when you were trying to calm her down."

Bellamy physically jolted. Had he really let it slip out?

"She's asleep enough now," Roan's abrupt change to the conversation startled Bellamy, as did Roan adjusting Clarke, supporting her head and shoulder as he rose to his feet and then carefully collecting her in his arms. "Spread it around that Clarke wasn't well and I've taken her home. Madi is at your sister's, so we'll head there for now."

"If you're going to O's, I can take her. You should stay with your squad," Bellamy started to reach for Clarke, it was instinctive really, because seeing anyone cradle Clarke like that felt truly foreign to him.

But Roan just shook his head, halting Bellamy's movements. "She isn't your responsibility, Blake."

That statement hit him like a knife in the gut and all he could do was stand by uselessly when Roan turned to walk away, Clarke stirring in his arms.

Roan unexpectedly stopped and shot him a surprised look. "She's saying not to leave you behind alone."

Something in his heart pulled at the unexpectedness of that show of care even in her current state of barely conscious. Bellamy moved forward and tentatively touched the backs of his fingers to hers and Clarke stirred towards him. "I won't be alone Clarke. And I'll see you before you know it, okay?"

She made a sort of grumbling noise in her throat and snuggled back into Roan, who offered Bellamy a nod and then moved off without another word.

Bellamy stood, staring at nothing for a while, his thoughts a strange combination of blank and hopelessly jumbled, until Echo silently stepped into his line of sight and he started. There was concern in her eyes but he couldn't dwell on it as his heart took control of his head. "I have to go," he told her. "Something happened to Clarke. Roan's taken her to my sister's."

The concern seemed to shift to worry. "Want me to come?"

He was shaking his head before his brain could catch up. "I think it's something private. I just..." he trailed off, his mind not letting him put this all consuming worry into words.

"Go on then," he was already heading off before she could finish getting the words out.

It wasn't the most responsible thing really, but Bellamy couldn't remember the trip to his sister's place. Pulling into her driveway seemed to bring him back, and he spotted Octavia standing in her doorway before he was even out of the car.

Suddenly feeling self conscious, Bellamy tried to articulate an excuse for his presence. "I -"

"You took longer than I expected," Octavia rolled her eyes at him and almost smiled, pulling him into a brief hug. "She's in the living room."

"Roan?"

"He's on the phone out back, but he won't interrupt you," she ushered him off, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Bellamy hesitated for a moment, unable to identify if he was just nervous or if he was afraid to see the state Clarke was in.

Sucking in a deep breath, for strength, he entered the living room and instantly spotted Madi. The teen was perched on the edge of the couch, TV playing a cheerful animated movie with singing animals that didn't immediately register with him. She was chatting quietly and he finally noticed Clarke was laying out across the sofa, her hand clutched in Madi's, her other arm up covering her eyes.

Madi spotted him and brightened. "Bellamy," she grinned and stood, releasing Clarke's hand. "Clarke knew you'd come," she reached for his hand and pulled him over, sitting him down in her vacated spot. "She's a little out of it so don't be upset if she falls back asleep on you."

Bellamy nodded by way of response but Madi was already on her way out of the room.

Somehow, for the first time in six years, he was alone in a room with Clarke. But he couldn't seem to bring himself to look at her, bracing his elbows on his knees to take a few fortifying breaths. And when he finally did glance over at her, he spotted her peeking out at him from under her arm and couldn't help the relieved puff of laughter that escaped him.

Her eyes seemed a little dazed, but she was calm, and the tentative smile on her face was like a balm for his distraught soul. Tears unexpectedly sprung into his eyes and he dropped his head to try to hide them.

Clarke's hand came up and clamped onto his forearm. "Is it wrong of me to be relieved that you still care?"

Anger prickled through him. "How could I not care? I don't know that I've ever been that scared before, Clarke. You looked like you couldn't breathe and I couldn't even help you!"

"You did just fine actually," she mumbled. "But I'm sure you want an explanation?"

"I am kind of wondering why you seemed to have a panic attack out of nowhere," he chanced another glance at her.

"Not out of nowhere," she corrected gently. "I just chose to ignore all the precursors even though I knew better. I wasn't completely asleep earlier, so I heard you and Roan talking. I have P.T.S.D., Bellamy. That incident Roan was telling you about, I had all the signs and symptoms before it, but that was the final nail in the coffin. Injury or not, there was no way I could stay in the army after that. Neither my head nor my heart would allow it."

Bellamy swiped at his cheeks, a little surprised that he had started to cry in earnest. "How badly were you injured?" It made him sick to even imagine it.

"It wasn't too bad really, not at first," she corrected herself. "A few bumps and bruises, a couple of fractured ribs and a dislocated shoulder," she spoke as if it were just a paper cut and that seemed to horrify Bellamy even more until she continued and he instead felt as though his lungs had been pulled out through his throat. "But I took a bullet in the leg. It lodged in my bone and they had to operate. I would have been fine but an infection set in and in the end Jackson had to replace my bone with an artificial one or I risked losing part of my leg. Or worse."

"Worse?!" He bolted to his feet and paced a few steps away, took a deep breath, paced back, and regained his seat. "I should have been there for you," he sighed, dispirited.

"I knew you'd end up feeling guilty," Clarke huffed, her eyes narrowing on him. "This is why I didn't want to tell you."

"This isn't about me feeling guilty!" Bellamy's voice came out strained in an effort to not start shouting at her. "Though I am that a little. This is me being upset! I'm upset Clarke, that I didn't know, that I couldn't be there for you. I'm upset that this is part of your life now because you don't deserve it. And I'm upset that there's nothing I can do about it for you."

"You were never going to be able to save me from everything, Bellamy," her voice was back to being gentle. "Especially when I'm the problem."

"Six years, Clarke," he swiped viciously at the traitorous tears now. "No matter what you say, I could have been there. Should have been there."

"You aren't getting it Bellamy," Clarke hoisted herself into a seated position though it seemed to take a lot more effort than could be considered normal. "I was the problem. I refused to let anyone help me for longer than was healthy. O and Lincoln could tell you. I moved to Polis because I knew almost no one. I never answered their calls. I tried to cut them out, for so many stupid, petty reasons. But they stuck with me."

He should have stuck with her.

As if she could read his mind, she carried on. "There were days when I almost called you," she admitted. "But you were still overseas playing soccer. I couldn't bring myself to disturb your life. That's on me, Bellamy, not you."

He huffed at her.

"We'll just have to agree to disagree then," she was starting to blink drowsily at him. "I'm sorry Bell, I'm getting sleepy again. But if you start giving me that guilty look every time I see you from now on we're going to have a problem."

With a sigh and a nod, Bellamy couldn't seem to hold it in any longer. "I've missed you, Clarke."

A soft, yet somehow vibrant smile spread across her face. "Me too, Bellamy," she leaned forward and he caught her in a loose hug.

Her arms felt the same as he remembered. Strong and heartfelt, and he couldn't help but pull her closer, hold her tighter, and try not to break into sobs. It was when she started to shiver that he realised something was wrong and panicked a little. "Clarke," he made to move back but her arms tightened. "Are you crying?"

"You feel the same," came from the point where her chin had burrowed into his collarbone, the same spot it always had in the past. "It just caught me by surprise."

A little laugh puffed out of him and he settled into the hug until she calmed down and he realised she had fallen back to sleep. Careful not to disturb her, he settled her back into the cushions and took a few deep breaths before he moved off to find his sister.

Madi greeted him with a beaming grin where she sat between Roan and Octavia at the kitchen island bench, and she quickly hopped down off her stool and wandered back into the living room.

"Clarke's asleep again?" Roan checked, and at Bellamy's nod he also vacated the kitchen, leaving Bellamy to face his sister.

"Bell," the sorrow and apology in his sister's voice almost did him in. He was tilting his head back to fight off tears when Octavia's arms came around him and when a sob fell out of him, she squeezed tighter. "I was convinced Lincoln, of all people, must have been exaggerating when he told me what was going on with Clarke after she got back from her last deployment. She was pretty low, sure, and very withdrawn, but I was sure it was because of her injury and being stuck in hospital. Then I actually witnessed one of her panic attacks," she took a step back to meet his eyes. "I couldn't reconcile the person I knew with what I was seeing."

All Bellamy could do was nod, because really, what could he say?

"She really is so much better these days Big Brother," she smiled reassuringly at him. "She's better at managing it now. And she lets us help her when she needs it, too, which is good."

"Was she stressed because of me?" He'd been afraid to ask, but he needed to know the answer.

"To an extent. It's the time of year too," it wasn't the most comforting answer. "Madi going into high school had them both a bit stressed, they had just settled into their new routines and then you popped up...I'm pretty sure most of Clarke's anxiety about you is for your benefit, rather than her own. She was pretty worried about how you'd react to knowing about the P.T.S.D. let alone actually seeing it. Now that you have, now that you know, she'll probably settle down a bit more."

Bellamy shook his head with a heavy sigh, because that seemed so much like the Clarke he remembered. Always worrying about everyone else first.

"Lincoln and I are used to it, but if you're struggling at all, you might want to consider talking to Murphy," Octavia encouraged. "She kept putting off telling him, but the attacks were still fairly common at the time. She ended up so stressed out about telling him that she spiraled and almost collapsed. Murphy handled it well in the moment, he's a lot more put together than most of us have ever given him credit for, but afterwards he was a mess."

"Thanks," Bellamy nodded, then hesitated. "Should I stay? Or leave before she wakes up?"

"Doesn't matter," Octavia shook her head. "Between the anxiety meds and the after affects of the attack, she won't stay awake. Roan will probably take her home when Madi is ready to go."

"Madi's alright with all this? She seems way too calm for someone her age."

"That's another long story that isn't really mine to tell," Octavia lamented. "Ask one of them about it some other time. I will tell you that Madi is prone to minor anxiety attacks as well. She gets mild separation anxiety so if Clarke's down, Madi needs to be nearby or she starts getting panicky."

That opened so many more questions about both Clarke and Madi, their relationship, and Bellamy started to wonder just how Madi had come to be Clarke's daughter in every way bar one.

He tired to stop his next comment, he really tried, but it forced its way out anyway. "Roan seems good with them."

Octavia gave him a curious, considering sort of look, before one corner of her lips tipped up. "None of us really like Roan, exactly. He just has one of those personalities that rubs most people the wrong way. But it's served him well in his career choices and, at the end of the day, all we care about is how he treats Clarke and Madi. And he treats them better than he treats anyone else."

Bellamy couldn't quite figure out why Octavia's tone suggested she was somehow tying to offer him some sort of reassurance, ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind pointing out that he was, in fact, quite hurt that Roan seemed to have taken his place as the person Clarke relied on when times were tough. And while he was relieved that Clarke wasn't alone in her struggles, a niggling sadness lay beneath everything else because it was just more proof that he couldn't just slide seamlessly back into his place in her life.

He had taken too long to reply, he could tell by the look his sister was now giving him. "As long as she's happy. She deserves to be happy."

Octavia's eyebrows shot up for a moment before her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, as though she was looking for something in his expression.

"What?" Bellamy was sure he had a right to be nervous, his sister had shifted to give him an almost calculating look.

She gave him a little crooked smile and a chuckle. "I've heard that somewhere before."

That seemed significant, and possibly important, but Octavia was heading into the living room before Bellamy could question her further. All he could do was shelve the issue for now, brace himself, and face this new Clarke, her daughter, and her partner.

Chapter Text

The Wednesday following finding out about Clarke's condition, Bellamy woke in a cold sweat, just as he had every morning since. He rubbed his hands over his tired face and carded his fingers through his curls with an exhausted sigh. He really hadn't expected to take it so hard, the knowledge of what Clarke had lived through. And he only knew one of the supposedly many events.

Either way, Bellamy knew he couldn't go on like this or he would never be able to face Clarke without her reading all his churning emotions. It hadn't been a stretch to admit to himself what he had probably already known deep down, and that was that not having her in his life again, in whatever capacity they could manage, was not an option. He wasn't ready to admit it aloud, but losing Clarke a second time was out of the question.

Bellamy gasped and jolted when Echo's arms wrapped around his waist, leaning into him with her chin on his shoulder, and all of a sudden it dawned on him that he had been taking her steady support for granted since Clarke had reentered his life. "We should go on a date," he stated abruptly.

"What?" she was clearly taken aback by his declaration, not an easy feat to achieve with Echo.

"A date." He confirmed. "We haven't been on one in a while. O was telling me about how she and Lincoln go indoor rock climbing all the time. That would be fun, yes?"

"Bellamy," between her dry tone and the look in her eyes he knew she was deciding to finally confront him. "Our lack of dates recently is not the reason you've been waking up in a sweat all week."

He let out a long exhale, hanging his head in resignation, and stuck his fingers back into his hair.

"I can connect the dots, you know," Echo calmly informed him. "Between all the times Roan has cut out early over the years while Clarke's with him, to what Lincoln and Octavia said, to your reaction now. Do you know how common PTSD is in returning soldiers?"

"I looked it up," he confirmed, mentally kicking himself because he really shouldn't have been surprised. "It isn't just about that though. She almost died, Echo. I wouldn't be the same if she had. It was one thing not to talk to her because I was angry and hurt and prideful, but she was still out in the world somewhere. It's a whole different thing to consider her not being alive anymore."

"You can't blame yourself for any of that."

"I know that. I know I shouldn't. Clarke's said as much. But she was my best friend." He found he couldn't meet his girlfriend's eyes while he talked about this and instead focused on the tattoo currently exposed to his eyes on his inner right wrist. "What kind of person doesn't support their friends in times like that?"

"A human person," she stressed. "Especially a human who didn't even know about it."

He traced the red lines of the outline of a thumb-sized brain permanently inked on his skin, unable to think of an appropriate response to that statement. It didn't make him feel any better.

"You know," Echo went on, taking his right hand in hers to turn his wrist out for them both to see in the early morning light. "I always wondered about this tattoo. It didn't really seem your style, especially compared to this one," she tapped the inside of his left biceps. "Or even this one," she moved her hand to trace along the unfinished design along his right side, just lightly enough to make him squirm a little and bring a teasing smirk to her lips. "I couldn't figure out the meaning behind it, especially because you weren't really one to intentionally brag about how smart you really were. It was especially weird to me that you don't like other people touching it, or even looking at it, since you cover it up whenever you can. But it wasn't until recently that I realised you weren't even conscious of how often you touched it yourself, especially when you were stressed or struggling to cope, and not just recently either."

A little thrill of surprise shot through him. Had he really been doing that all these years? Subconsciously looking to Clarke for advice?

"We had a running joke," Bellamy finally confided. "Clarke thought with her head, I thought with my heart."

"So I take it that means Clarke has a heart tattooed somewhere on her person? Or did you get it after your fight?" Echo questioned, curiously.

"She did have," Bellamy confirmed with a nod. "Whether or not it's still there is a different story," he muttered, more to himself.

"You really think she had it removed or covered up?" She raised her eyebrows at him, in a way that suggested he might be growing a second head. "Any idiot with one good eye could see she still cares about you, and you're not an idiot."

Bellamy sighed, that vulnerable feeling gnawing at his insides again. "We said some pretty hurtful things to each other. I can't say I'd blame her if she did something else to it."

"Where's hers?" Echo wondered. "Maybe we can find a way to check on it. That would make you feel better, wouldn't it? Knowing if it's important enough to still be there."

"Unless you have a way to get her naked," Bellamy retorted with an unintentionally mocking snort. "It won't make an appearance at least until summer. It's on her ribs."

"What about your sister? Or Lincoln? One of them would surely know," Echo encouraged. "I could ask Roan if you want?"

"Definitely a no to the last one." Bellamy did not want to think about Roan knowing Clarke's tattoos. "Why are we even still talking about this?" He climbed out of bed and searched through his drawers. "Let me know if you want to go rock climbing so I can find out the details from O. I'm going for a run."

With perfect timing, Echo's alarm went off and that was their cue that she needed to start her day, so Bellamy gave her a quick kiss and headed out the door for some morning exercise.

Bellamy ran for as long as he could, hoping to clear his mind, before he had to be back to prepare for his own day, and returned to find the coffee machine was ready to go and Echo had left the bread out for him with a note telling him she had also made a healthy breakfast smoothie and left him some in the fridge. An additional note told him she looked forward to their date tonight and hoped he had a good day.

The tiny slither of guilt that crept into his being didn't make much sense to him, so he pushed it aside and went about his morning routine. Showered and dressed, poured his coffee into a to-go cup while the bread toasted, and added the prepacked lunch he'd made them both the night before to his satchel as he quickly drank the smoothie. And so in no time at all he had managed to get himself into his car without dropping everything, and connected his phone to hands free in order to call his sister on the short drive.

"Morning Big Brother," Octavia answered, not out of breath exactly, but clearly on the move.

"Did I interrupt a run?" Bellamy glanced at the clock on his dashboard. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for school?"

"P.E. teacher, remember? I don't need to be there in time for morning homeroom." There was laughter in her voice. "Clarke's trying to get back into her routine, so we walked Madi to the bus stop and now we're going for a quick run."

"You've got Clarke running now?" Clarke had always hated running for exercise, on more than one occasion she had told him that running just to run seemed like the most pointless way to exercise.

"You have no idea how much work she puts in to fight the anxiety, brother," Octavia sighed. "Mind you, I keep having to slow down for her to catch up and if she'd just stop complaining about how she should just stick to yoga she'd be less winded," her voiced was raised with the last half, obviously for Clarke's benefit if the teasing note he detected was anything to go by.

"And now you're telling me Clarke does yoga?" It seemed today was going to be a day of surprises. He wasn't even sure how to touch the fact that he was starting to wonder about this new version of Clarke who now did things she'd despised in the past.

"Two to three times a week," Octavia replied with a great deal of sass. "Was there something I can help you with, Bell?"

"Oh, right, yeah," Bellamy shook himself to get his mind back on track. "I was thinking of taking Echo for a rock climbing date tonight. I wondered if you could text me the information about the place you go?"

"Tonight?" Octavia clarified. "Well that's perfect. Lincoln and I are already booked in for tonight. Just tag along with us. I'll add you on with us."

"Like a double date?" Bellamy wasn't sure how he felt about a double date with his sister and her partner.

"You did want me to spend more time getting to know Echo, right?" she steamrolled on after his noise of confirmation. "And we're going anyway, already have a membership that allows for guests, and even have a dinner reservation afterwards. Your choice brother. It isn't hard to add two more people to any of the bookings."

"Sure," he agreed, not really sure how to argue with his sister's sudden bout of logic. "I'll double check with Echo but it should be fine."

"I'll send you details once I confirm everything." He could almost hear the smile in his sister's voice. "Also, Clarke wants to talk to you now she's caught her breath."

Before he could say anything, Clarke's voice came closer, her indistinct words sounding suspiciously like a string of swear words.

"Bellamy?"

Was it his imagination, or had he just straightened a little in his seat? His stomach was doing funny things to his insides, and he found it somewhat comforting that the tone of her voice over a phone line was the most familiar thing about her. He instantly developed a new appreciation and fondness for the thousands of phone calls and video chats all those years ago.

"Clarke." How was that the best greeting his brain could seem to manage?

"We're doing another girls' night Friday night after Madi's game and I was thinking Echo might like to join us?" She told him, still sounding a little winded. "Madi will be in the house so it will be fairly tame and probably include a board game and/or cheesy film of Madi's choosing."

That was it? "Well, then, thanks. I'll let Echo know." Was it wrong of him to be surprised? Or bad that he was now beginning to wonder if O was giving Echo a chance because of Clarke's influence and encouragement? He would have to take it either way. Octavia hadn't been openly hostile, but she had never seemed to like his girlfriend and Bellamy hadn't been able to figure out why.

"Your sister is getting impatient." There was a hint of a groan at the end of her sentence. "Have a good day, Bellamy."

She was passing the phone back before he could reciprocate and his sister was quick to bid him farewell and hang up. That just left Bellamy pulling into his car spot at work with a sinking feeling in his gut. He was jealous. Of how close Clarke and Octavia seemed to be. Of the fact that he wasn't the person who she relied on anymore - didn't even make it into the top five if he counted Madi. And, it was petty, but he was jealous that somehow Echo had garnered an invitation into her home.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he fought off the dark emotions that lingered on the edges of his sanity. Time, patience and strength. He started to repeat those three words to himself throughout his day. One step at a time, without putting pressure on either of them, and maybe one day they could have something that vaguely resembled their past relationship.

* * * * * *

Rock climbing with Octavia and Lincoln was turning out to be quite fun, Bellamy decided, as he took some time to hydrate and watched his sister and Echo have an unofficial competition to see who could reach the top first. Admittedly the whole experience had turned into a bit of a competition between him and the girls, Lincoln excluded on the basis that someone built like a truck should not be so quick and agile climbing with those tiny hand and foot holds.

And since everyone was occupied, there hadn't been much time for potentially awkward small talk, or probing questions on his sister's part.

Lincoln came back down from a climb and joined him, reaching for his own water bottle and checking the time. "I have to make a quick call. When the girls get back down, will you let them know our dinner reservation is in twenty?"

Bellamy nodded and watched the other man move away with his phone.

"Who won?" Bellamy wondered when Echo and Octavia arrived beside him moments later.

"Too close to fairly rule," Octavia sniffed. In other words they both thought they had won.

Bellamy chuckled and shook his head at them, before relaying Lincoln's message and they went their separate ways to shower and change.

The restaurant was only a couple of blocks away so they headed onto the surprisingly lively Main Street for a leisurely walk, both couples hand in hand.

"Is this usual for a Wednesday night?" Bellamy had to ask, eyes drifting over all the bustling sidewalks. There were hardly any cars on the road, but everywhere they passed was full of people.

"You need to get out more, Big Brother." O started laughing at him. "Main Street is always busy. Day or night, there's always people everywhere. Look, you can see the Mad Tatter from here," she pointed off to a street corner another block down, and she was right, the sign was visible, though barely legible, from their current location.

"...Is it more obvious at night?" Bellamy frowned thoughtfully. "I've passed by there so many times and never really noticed it before."

Octavia shot him a look that was a strange combination of adoration and derision. "I'd bet my life you've noticed the flower shop beneath it though."

His cheeks flushed, because she was a hundred percent right.

"All heart," Octavia visibly softened and gave him a quick, one-armed hug.

"All heart?" Echo wondered. "Did I miss something?"

"We didn't have much growing up," Octavia offered a summarised version of the story. "Bellamy, nerd that he is, read up on flowers and the symbolism behind them so that he could find and bring me different kinds of flowers and tell me all about them as a form of entertainment."

"You used to love it," Bellamy couldn't help but pout a little. "It's a shame you didn't end up with a better green thumb."

Echo was looking even more confused now.

Lincoln really was the sympathetic one in the family, as he now took pity on Echo to further explain. "Octavia loves nature, but she couldn't keep a plant alive if its life depended on it, and they clearly do depend on it," he teased and Octavia actually flushed faintly and rolled her eyes.

"She always seems to either under water or over water everything," Bellamy added. "Or trim plants that aren't supposed to be cut back."

"And that is why I have people like Lincoln and Clarke and Madi in my life," Octavia smirked proudly. "They make sure I don't do the wrong thing, and, failing that, they just replace it."

"You've even got Madi in on it?" This was somehow horrifying to him.

"It's an even trade, Big Brother, I can assure you," O grinned. "The Griffins supply us with homegrown things and we make sure they don't have to suffer through too many of Clarke's attempts to cook."

"Here we are." Lincoln diverted them into a trendy looking, upscale pub-style restaurant that was almost well and truly packed, where they were shown to their reserved table, handed menus, and asked about their drink orders in a very prompt fashion.

"So what's good here?" Bellamy wondered, scanning over the menu.

"This is our first time here," Octavia admitted sheepishly. "But Clarke said the mustard-crusted lamb was to die for. She, Murphy and Madi shared that and the buffalo chicken pizza with some other side dishes."

Was it wrong of him to go from slightly sickened by crossing dating paths with Clarke and Roan to very relieved in such a small space of time? "Did you say Clarke and Murphy?"

"Between repeatedly fixing her tuck and regularly going round to cook them food, Clarke takes Murphy out and treats him to dinner at least once a week," Octavia chuckled and shook her head at their nonsense. "One time they went to a family diner, just before Madi really hit her growth spurt and the wait staff mistook Madi as their daughter and Murphy completely played it up, claimed it was her birthday and got them free cake. You'd think he came away a millionaire the way he kept telling the story."

"Madi got a kick out of it though." Lincoln smiled fondly.

"That's because Murphy is father of the year compared to the asshole who claims to share DNA with her," Octavia muttered with a huff and an eye roll. "May he rot and die in jail."

"That's a little harsh O." Bellamy couldn't help but frown.

"I've said far worse about him." O pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes in obvious annoyance. "You'll agree with me when you hear the story. From them," she added, apparently able to read Bellamy's inhale as the beginning of a question.

So he went another route instead. "Do you realise how often you talk about Clarke now?"

"I have six years of not mentioning her to make up for," Octavia retorted, pulling a face at him. "Besides, we're so over involved in each other's lives it's so difficult not to mention her."

Their waiter appeared to deliver their drinks and take their food orders and Octavia took that as a cue to change the subject.

"Tell me how you two met?" Octavia requested. "Bellamy's never really told me."

"Originally?" Echo smiled a little at the memory. "I used to work primarily undercover which meant I often ended up in neighbouring towns and cities. That time around I had a UC gig in Arkadia to infiltrate a crime syndicate that seemed to have their hands in everything from arms dealings, to smuggling, to under the table organ harvesting. They basically ran the black market."

"You aren't talking about the Mountain Men, are you?" Lincoln wondered.

"I am," Echo nodded.

"My platoon had several run ins with their overseas distributors where we were deployed." Lincoln pulled a face that was the closest to disgust Bellamy had ever seen him wear.

"Probably a bit before my time then? I was in with their arms dealers. This one day, I was making a show of running away from the police who had busted in on a deal, and I ran right into Bellamy. Of course, somehow I was the one who ended up on my arse, your brother's really hard to knock over."

Bellamy couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Somehow she finagled my phone number out of me and I didn't hear from her until a few months later when she was no longer undercover. It was much better timing for me anyway, as it turned out."

"The rest is pretty standard," Echo admitted. "Is there an interesting story between how the two of you met?" she wondered.

"Clarke introduced us." Octavia beamed. "They were stationed at the same base on her first deployment so Lincoln was almost a mentor to her," pride was just brimming out of her. "Clarke basically adopted him after that since they were both returning to Trikru when the tour was over."

"Does Clarke adopt a lot of people?" Echo had been curious about the fact that none of Clarke's 'family' were related to her by blood.

"Yes and no," Octavia turned thoughtful. "She's never been quick to trust, but when you're in, she'd die for you."

"Or kill for you," Lincoln murmured, then looked surprised at himself as he glanced at his companions. "Sorry."

Air wasn't reaching Bellamy's lungs properly. "Clarke's killed for you? Aren't medics non-combat?" He knew she had demons, from even before they had met, but she had never outright told him she'd had to kill people. Hearing it from Lincoln now, somehow made it worse.

"The days when medics didn't carry weapons are long gone," Lincoln shook his head. "She'd had to shoot people before she met you, Bellamy, and she's had to do it since she left you. But I can't say I'm too sorry for it. It's always been about keeping other people safe for both of us. About surviving. It's how I became family. Our first tour together, a hostile saw we were the medics and played injured, then pulled a gun on me in an escape attempt. Clarke pulled hers right back, refused to back down while I was in danger. She told me I was her people," there was a hint of reverence in his voice now, and a warm glow took Bellamy's heart at the reminder of Clarke as he had always known her, strong, stubborn and with a bigger heart than she gave herself credit for. "I was left to be raised by my aunt because my parents believed dying for their country was more important than raising their own child. I had never really been family to anyone other than my aunt and my cousin, until this tiny eighteen-year-old blonde refused to leave me behind and save herself."

"Good thing for all of us she was hard to intimidate," Octavia joked lightly, taking Lincoln's hand on the table.

"After that my sense of family suddenly grew to include Murphy and Raven, by association," Lincoln went on, in what was probably the longest, most personal speech Bellamy had ever heard him give. "And then Clarke introduced me to Octavia and life made a little more sense."

Octavia had always been the more expressive of the couple, with Lincoln being a steady, quiet support. It had always somehow been obvious that Lincoln was devoted to his sister, but his words now, eight years on, made Bellamy wish he could return to the past and give his younger self a good punch to the gut for being such a jerk about the early days of their relationship.

Oblivious to her brother's inner demons, Octavia smiled sweetly and continued on. "The first words he said to me were 'My name is Lincoln'. Just that."

"And you returned the favour and then demanded whether or not that was all I was going to say." A rare, beaming smile spread across the man's face. "I didn't stand a chance."

"You still tried to resist me," Octavia smirked, a little devilishly to Bellamy's eyes.

"Seven years is a big age gap when you're fresh out of high school," Lincoln reminded her. "And you had a very protective brother," the pair glanced sidelong at Bellamy, clearly teasing.

Bellamy had no response to that, just rolled his eyes at them.

They were interrupted by food service and the conversation topics steered away from the deeply personal and turned to more mundane topics while they enjoyed their meal. When it came around to deciding whether they wanted dessert or not, Octavia stopped them and announced they had to go for ice-cream.

"Isn't today a bit mild...never mind," Bellamy cut himself off with an eye roll at himself. He knew his sister better than that, he'd seen her eat ice-cream in the middle of the snow. "This ice-cream better be worth it."

"You have no idea." Octavia hung off his arm as they rejoined the people on the sidewalk. "They're basically gourmet. You'll probably deny it and call them overpriced and weird, but you'll love it."

Bellamy's phone started ringing and he fished it out of his pocket, surprised to see Monty's name lighting the screen.

"Didn't you mention Monty and Harper were going to some extended McIntyre family reunion on the other side of the country?" Octavia frowned down at his phone.

"I did," he nodded and swiped to answer, pacing away from general public noise to hear better. "Monty, hey, I thought you guys were going away?"

"We are away," Monty's voice sounded a strange combination of overly polite and completely frazzled.

"What's wrong?" Bellamy was immediately frowning in concern, going on high alert. "Are Harper and Jordan alright?"

"Something along those lines," Monty sighed heavily over the line.

"Monty," Bellamy pressed impatiently, his heartbeat in his throat.

"Listen, I've never really figured out how to bring it up, but now I need a favour, and I hope it's not too much to ask-"

"Monty," Bellamy cut him off. "The day you ask for too much, well, we'll probably never live to see that day. Just tell me what you need."

"I need Clarke's number."

Bellamy jolted. "What?"

"She sent Jordan that stuffed sloth toy he loves so much and we lost it somewhere between the airport and the hotel and now he won't stop crying, Bellamy. He will not stop crying," Monty stressed, as if Bellamy was unaware how out of character it was for the usually unnaturally cheerful baby. "I tried her old number but it rang out to an automated voice message, so I don't know if it's still hers, and so I called you."

There was an uncomfortable pause before Bellamy spoke again. "Why do you think I'm in touch with her?"

"She's been staying in touch with someone, you seemed the most likely option."

"I'm afraid you called the wrong Blake, Monty. I don't know her number," he admitted with a grudging sigh. "I should probably rectify that though actually."

"Are you saying Octavia is the reason Clarke knew about Jordan's birth?"

"And Lincoln, obviously. Though Jordan's only how many months old now? It could have been Murphy."

"Does that mean she's in Polis, too?" Monty surmised, then Harper's stressed out voice called in the distance, accompanied by the wail of a small child. "Sorry Bellamy, but I should call Octavia or Murphy, is that what you're saying? Perhaps we can finish this conversation later?"

"Hold on, I'm with O now," Bellamy caught his sister's attention and waved her over, quickly explaining the situation.

"Her number hasn't changed," Octavia told him. "But she works late on Wednesdays so she may not have seen your message yet."

"I don't think he left a message. Monty said her voicemail is an automated service?"

"Yeah, that's just for safety." Octavia frowned thoughtfully. "If it's about the stuffed sloth, it's from a local Clarke is friends with. We can probably get another for him," she pulled out her phone and speed-dialed a number. "Madi, you're at the shop with your mum?" She moved away slightly to speak.

"So, you really haven't been in touch with Clarke all these years?" Monty asked with apparent hesitation.

"Until a couple of weeks ago, no." That seemed like the easiest way to state the recent happenings.

"So that means Octavia or Lincoln are how she knew about Jasper's funeral?"

That gave Bellamy pause. "You saw her at the funeral?"

"I didn't realise it was her until a few months later. She didn't really look like the Clarke I remembered. I tried to track her down back then, but I couldn't find her. The group was in such a fragile state though, I couldn't go around asking everyone if they knew where Clarke was when it looked as if she didn't want to be found."

"How different could she look, Monty?" Bellamy was suddenly very afraid of the answer, given what he understood of the timeline of events as he knew them.

"Well, the bright red dreadlocks were eye catching, but a surprisingly effective way to throw me off. But she seemed more haunted than I remembered. And she was on crutches, which is why I combed through some news outlets about injured soldiers, but I couldn't find her name in any of the publicised lists. In the end, I assumed it was all confidential somehow."

Crutches and red dreadlocks? Bellamy was suddenly doubting himself. What were the chances he had seen her at the funeral and just not realised it at the time? Would he have recognised that version of Clarke?

Octavia interrupted his internal crisis by coming back to his side. "Clarke's called Niylah and we'll Express another one over to them if Monty just sends one of us the details of where they're staying. Since the toy is handmade it may not be exactly the same, but hopefully it's close enough to fool a not even one-year-old. They'll just have to hold out until it reaches them."

Monty was soon hanging up with a grand amount of thanks.

"Apparently there's a night market on at the Town Hall tonight," Octavia explained. "Niylah is there now with her booth. Mind if we stop there quickly to pick up the toy before we get ice-cream? Clarke keeps some express post parcels at the shop, so Lincoln and I can stop by when we're done for tonight."

"Or we could just take her ice-cream and all stop in to say hi?" Echo suggested, somehow reading Bellamy's mind.

"Only if you're sure," Octavia insisted, clearly a little hopeful.

They spent some time meandering about the market stalls, primarily filled with handmade goods ranging from toys and clothes to gourmet and/or organic foods, before they found the person they were there for.

"Niylah!" Octavia called out and waved from several booths away, bounding ahead to greet Niylah. Bellamy couldn't help but notice Octavia was a little extra friendly than he was used to seeing O be with female friends other than Clarke, going so far as to hug the other woman tightly.

"Good friends are they?" Bellamy wondered of Lincoln.

"Yes, well, funny story." For a brief couple of moments Lincoln seemed like he wasn't going to offer up any more before he went on. "Niylah does this craft business on the side. Her day job is as a nurse down at PGH. She was working in the orthopedic department while Clarke was a patient there and they hit it off."

"Are you telling me that's Clarke's ex?" Bellamy wasn't sure how to react to this development. He also couldn't help but be frustrated that it wasn't Clarke telling him, closely followed by the somewhat frightening thought that maybe she wouldn't have even if she had been there.

"Not exactly." Lincoln shrugged dismissively. "They had a friends with benefits relationship, heavy on the benefits, for a while before just becoming friends. In the last few years Octavia and Niylah have become good friends too."

Having now reached the person in question, Octavia started to make introductions. "This is Echo, who you'll be meeting properly at girls' night on Friday, and this is my big brother-"

"Bellamy Blake, I take it?" Nilyah cut in, scanning Bellamy from head to toe in a rather disconcerting way. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Ah, sure, you too." The scales were a little uneven, clearly, with Bellamy having just heard of this woman, while Niylah seemed to have heard something about him. He glanced to his sister, who shrugged...which could only leave Clarke as the source, and Bellamy wasn't sure how to feel about that either.

Niylah was quick to hand over the toy they had come for, needing to get back to her customers, and they were back on track to the ice-cream parlour in no time.

"Did I miss something?" Echo leaned closer so only he would hear her. "Your sister mentioned I was going to girls' night on Friday?"

"Sorry, I haven't had a chance to tell you," Bellamy apologised. "Clarke hosts girls' night some Friday nights, to which she has invited you this week."

"That's nice of her," Echo commented, and even Bellamy could tell she was a little surprised. "Where exactly is her place?"

"Not far from ours," Octavia butted in, though it wasn't clear if she had been eavesdropping or just overheard. "But Emori's coming too if you want to just catch a ride over with her?" She suggested and motioned up at the shopfront they had stopped at. "We're here. Standard flavours are closest to the entrance, and they get more adventurous as you go along," she explained upon entering, and moved off to where Bellamy assumed the more peculiar flavours were kept.

Lincoln took a little extra time to explain the ordering process and the various vessel options for carrying the ice cream, before leaving the couple to peruse the flavours while he joined Octavia where she was already waiting in line to order.

"Cheddar cheese flavour?" Bellamy was equal parts horrified and fascinated by some of the options when Echo led him straight to the 'more adventurous' flavours.

"Peach and Jalapeno," Echo pointed, her eyebrows raised. "How do people even think of these?"

"We're ready to go when you are." Octavia sidled up to them with two scoops of unidentifiable dairy perched on a waffle cone, while Bellamy was still gaping at the name cards of ice cream tubs. "I already picked for Clarke and Madi."

"What did you get?" Echo wondered.

"Coconut Avocado," Octavia pointed to the green scoop on her cone, then to the pale orange one. "And Butternut Squash."

Bellamy couldn't help but look horrified and searched for Lincoln, hoping for a sane voice. He spotted the other man standing nearby with a dwarfed cup in one hand and in the other a bag, presumably holding the choices for Clarke and Madi. "What did you get for Clarke?" He trusted her taste buds more than his sister's.

"We got them a few of their favourites they could share," she turned back to the counter and pointed each of the options out. "Rose and Chocolate, Tumeric with Candied Ginger, Honey and Thyme, Strawberry Fennel, and Marshmallow Cereal."

"You've corrupted them with your health craze, haven't you?" Bellamy accused, in a good-natured fashion, but still wholly serious. The Clarke he remembered tended to stick to things like maple syrup, cinnamon, chocolate and berry types of flavours.

Octavia rolled exasperated eyes at him. "Just go back to the standard flavours, why don't you?"

"Doughnut," Echo decided, pointing somewhat cheerfully at her choices. "And Blueberry Goat's Cheese."

That earned her a thumbs up and a huge grin from his sister, who shot him one last narrow-eyed look before joining her other half by the door.

"You're all insane," Bellamy shook his head, scanning the weirdness before him with resignation, he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't get one of the adventurous choices. He moved up to the counter and ordered for he and Echo.

As had been the norm all night, when they had their orders, Octavia took the lead again, weaving between pedestrians until they reached the outer stairs to the Mad Tatter, and they all bundled in to the much warmer studio space, music faintly playing Pat Benatar.

"We're closed," Clarke called without looking up from where she was leaning over Murphy's arm while he laughed with a very animatedly chatting Madi.

"We can take your ice cream elsewhere," Octavia threatened playfully.

"Not unless you want me to hunt you down," Clarke glanced up and paused. "Looks like a party."

Bellamy wandered over to get a look. "You went for the paper planes, I see?"

"He just couldn't wait once I agreed to it," Clarke huffed and leaned back down to finish off the simple design. "Showed up right when I was finishing up with my last client. He's going to run out of space on his arms one of these days."

Lincoln had silently joined them, startling Bellamy when he spoke from right beside him and a stray thought wondered why their family never seemed to leave them to talk. "Want me to do yours now before you clean up, or tomorrow?"

Clarke looked to Madi, as if gauging how tired the teen was.

"There's ice-cream, I'll be fine." Madi grinned, reading her mother's expression with ease.

Goop and bandaging was spread over the addition to Murphy's skin, and Lincoln took the tattoo gun to change out the needles and ink. Clarke disposed of her gloves and rolled up her right sleeve, somehow effectively applying the small stencil without aid, just above and to the side of her elbow, before she took a seat and Lincoln took up the post she had previously held, the gun in his hand.

Madi returned to spoon bits of ice cream between her own and Clarke's mouths.

Someone tried to call him back to the sitting area where Octavia, Echo and Murphy had taken up residence, but Bellamy continued to watch on in concerned fascination at the quick and methodical application of ink to skin, frowning at the fact that Clarke wasn't even flinching.

"Bellamy?" His head shot round at Madi's voice. "What flavours did you try?" She nodded to the cup in his hand of starting-to-melt ice cream he'd barely touched.

"Oh, Ricotta Cannoli and Peanut Butter, Chocolate and Jam," he showed her, and caught Clarke's smirk from the corner of his eye. "What?" He questioned warily.

"No Indian Carrot flavour?" She teased.

"That was a thing?" He pulled a face that had even Lincoln chuckling.

"It's a spiced thing," Clarke teased, opening her mouth for another spoonful of smooth dairy. "It's surprisingly tasty."

"I said it before, I'll say it again," he narrowed his eyes playfully. "My sister has corrupted you with her weird taste."

"He said that?" Clarke looked to Lincoln for clarification, who only nodded, making Clarke grin. "I've been eating your sister's cooking for the better part of five years, it was bound to happen. Besides, I need to keep conscious of what I eat."

Bellamy had been doing just fine until that, and the idea that she had to watch what she ate because of her condition, left him both frustrated and devastated. "That reminds me," frustration won out and he frowned at her. "I just found out that you never changed your phone number and now I'm really annoyed, Clarke." She just raised her eyebrows slightly and he was reminded of the fact that he couldn't really read her anymore, the pit in his stomach that seemed to have everything to do with her these days grew a little bigger. "You're not even going to ask why?"

"We both wasted six years being too scared to pick up the phone and check?" She guessed, head tilted down to avoid meeting his eyes, a faint blush of pink visible along the line of her cheeks.

"Yup," Bellamy popped the 'P'.

There was a brief moment of silence during which Lincoln finished up, then Clarke peeked up from under her eyelashes, a smile fighting to break out and the two of them dissolved into borderline hysterical laughter at the state they'd found themselves in.

Echo joined them and Clarke calmed herself down, hopping off the chair to stand and tidy herself up. She moved to Lincoln's side to help him clean up and close up.

"Clarke?" Echo called for her attention, and Clarke blinked at her in surprise. "I wanted to thank you for the invitation Friday. Do I need to bring anything?"

"No problem," Clarke smiled softly. "Madi, what's on for girls' night this week?"

"Shrek movie marathon and Cluedo," Madi cheerfully announced.

Clarke rolled her eyes and grinned lopsidedly at Echo. "Whatever snack or alcohol you may need to get through that is fine, since I have no idea what you prefer. If you aren't fussy then there's no need to bring anything."

"You love Shrek and board games." Bellamy was confused by her attitude.

She looked at him as if he had grown a second head, followed that with a considering frown he couldn't read. "I'm teasing, Bellamy."

"Oh." His stomach dropped. This not being able to read her might just be the death of him...

"That's all folks," Murphy announced. "Let's get out of here. Hobbit, want to ride with me and we can polish off the rest of this on the way home?"

"Sure thing Gandalf," Madi stuck her tongue out at him, sauntering over to him.

"You're staying over again?" Clarke sighed. "Seriously Murphy."

"You know you love me Princess." Murphy winked at her.

"I'm beginning to wonder why, Cockroach." Clarke pulled a face at him.

"Less than two weeks and we'll be moved into our place with a decent bed and decent heating, and I won't need to claim one of your spare beds when Emori is working a night shift." Murphy wrinkled his nose at her.

"Heating in October? How do you even make it through winter?" Clarke shook her head and sighed at him while she pulled on her leather jacket and retrieved her bag from behind the counter on her way to join him. "How did you ever survive without me?"

Murphy blinked at her for a moment. "...Emori?"

A shake of a head and a laugh was everyone's response to that. "My mistake. I momentarily forgot that she turned you into a functioning human."

At this point they'd found their way back down to the street. It was somehow decided Clarke would get a ride home with Murphy and Lincoln would pick her up on the way to work the following morning, despite Clarke's insistence that her car was right there in its parking space behind the shop.

"Why are you hurrying off?" Bellamy couldn't help but ask. She always seemed to disappear at the first opportunity these days.

"Because for some reason you showed up to watch me get a tattoo during your double date night even though I wasn't one of the doubles?" Clarke seemed to be openly wondering if he had lost his mind.

There was that niggling sense of guilt settling in again as Bellamy glanced over at Echo. "Right."

"See you at the game on Friday Bellamy," Clarke shot him a smile, saluted to the others and moved to catch up to Madi and Murphy.

He turned away from watching her back as she walked away again and took Echo's hand when he returned to her side. "Is that the end of our night?" he wondered.

"Well we're dropping this in a post box," Octavia held up the toy that Bellamy had forgotten all about, now all wrapped up and ready to be delivered. "Then we're going to walk around for a bit, maybe stop for a hot chocolate. Join us if you want?"

Echo was nodding even while Bellamy was turning to check with her.

"Does Clarke still make the best hot chocolate?" He wondered as they started off again.

"Yes!" Octavia nearly shouted, then turned to whine at him. "It isn't natural for such a terrible cook to make a drink taste that good. And Big Brother," she pouted at him. "She still refuses to tell me the secret ingredient."

Bellamy just raised his eyebrows and smiled a little crookedly at his sister. It was probably not the time to admit that Clarke had confided in him years ago how exactly she made it taste so good. Of course, he hadn't been able to bring himself to make it in the last six years.

Echo leaned in closer when Octavia's attention was diverted. "You know the recipe, don't you?"

"You bet I do," he grinned widely.

"You two really were pretty close, hey?" Echo watched him studiously.

"Yeah, why?" Bellamy couldn't help but blink at her in surprise, a tiny bolt of panic shooting through him.

"You've been in a much better mood since seeing with your own eyes how she's bounced back since Sunday," his girlfriend informed him. "Calmer and less jittery, too."

A peculiar jittery feeling swam through him now as he realised he must have been worse than he'd thought these last few days. His eyes met Echo's, a serious air overtaking him. "You're pretty awesome, you know that, right?"

One corner of her mouth turned up and her eyes softened on his. "Don't you forget it."

He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her lips before pulling her closer to his side and following after his sister and Lincoln.

Chapter Text

Clarke wasn't usually self-conscious about her house. Fixing it up to become a home for her and Madi had been a labour of love, one that was admittedly a little ongoing in some rooms. But it was more than just a home now, it was their comfort and sanctuary. They were both supremely proud of it and the role it played in making them a family.

Yet now, with Echo coming over for the first time, Clarke was finding herself far more nervous than she had been expecting. Aside from Emori, everyone else had seen the place in various stages of the chaos that was home renovations, most of them had even helped at some point to make it what it was. But maybe because Emori had come equipped with Murphy...

She mentally chided herself, letting out a frustrated breath. She knew her nerves had everything to do with who Echo usually came paired with.

The cloth disappeared from her hand mid-wipe, and she raised her focus from the bench top to meet Octavia's eyes.

Octavia took her hand and replaced the cloth with a cocktail. "Settle down now, Clarke."

Clarke exhaled a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. This house may be her sanctuary, but she had to just keep reminding herself that Echo was just the newest addition to the family. A welcome addition since it meant Bellamy was something that resembled present in her life again. And so she took a sip of the drink and tried to push aside the nervous energy that was currently eating at her insides. "What am I drinking?" she was pleasantly surprised by the warmth instantly spreading through her.

"Old Fashioned." Octavia grinned and clinked her own class to Clarke's. "It's primarily whiskey, so a sufficient buzz shouldn't be too far off."

"Do I seem to need a buzz?" Anxiety threatened to drop her at the prospect of being too obvious with her feelings.

Octavia's eyebrows went up in a curious sort of way, as if something had just occurred to her, and any other time Clarke would have made an effort to wonder what that something was. But right now she was stricken by a deep worry that she would expose something that she never should. "You've cleaned the bench so many times I'm surprised you haven't somehow stripped a layer off the wood." Octavia tapped a fingernail to the wooden bench top.

A knock at the door distracted them and Madi called out that Gaia, Luna and Niylah had arrived. All three came bearing snack foods; Gaia with an assortment of savoury snacks she assured Luna were all vegan, Luna with a vegan spiced pumpkin pie, and Niylah deposited her standard rice crispy treats with no further explanation.

They all moved to the living room to start getting settled in, Octavia pouring out more of her cocktail mixture, when Madi led in Emori and Echo - who seemed to be taking in the house with a slightly stunned expression - and Clarke's stomach jittered because she hadn't even heard the door. Octavia quickly introduced Echo to the other women.

"Clarke," Emori drew her attention. "I need your oven. I made nachos that need heating."

"Sure." Clarke took her through to the kitchen and was thankful Emori was Emori when she couldn't remember which setting was the correct option on her own oven and the other woman just grinned, winked and did it herself.

It was when they straightened and turned that Clarke noticed Echo had followed them, though she seemed preoccupied with taking in the room.

"Your house is wonderful, Clarke," Echo finally offered, catching her eye with a tentative smile. "Bellamy guessed comfortable and colourful, which seems like a frighteningly good prediction for someone who hadn't seen you in so many years."

Clarke's stomach leapt at the prospect of Bellamy still knowing her well enough for his guess about her decorating style to not be too far off, but then dropped because he seemed to be discussing her with his girlfriend and she had to wonder just how much he was telling her.

"How on Earth do you manage to maintain it?" Echo didn't seem to notice her already spiraling emotions.

"Not very well." Clarke forced out a laugh she hoped came across as self-derisive rather than strained. "I have to do it in stages and try to limit the mess to rooms I can shut the door on when people come round. My workshop and study are disaster zones."

"Well, it's beautiful," Echo smiled kindly, the comment seeming truly genuine, and Clarke hoped she managed to return the gesture like any normal, sane person would.

"Thank you." With that and another sip of the drink still in her hand, Clarke managed to let out some of her tension and nerves with a little exhale. Then she noticed Echo had come with what looked suspiciously like baked goods she recognised and remembered. Her mouth started watering and her eyes widened on the offering, an excited inhale giving away her delight. "Are those-"

"Maple syrup doughnuts with cinnamon glaze." Echo held them out, blinking in mild confusion.

Something deep inside Clarke melted. Not only had Bellamy remembered they were her favourite, but he had taken the time to make them. "How did he even have time to make these?" She couldn't help but take one to eat immediately. The fact that they tasted better than she remembered could have had everything to do with the fact that it had been six years since she had had one, and caused her to let out an embarrassing little moan and her eyes to briefly roll back with no care to how she would look.

The look Echo was giving her gave Clarke pause. An awkward silence ensued until Emori apparently couldn't take it anymore and reached for a doughnut, mumbling about how they couldn't be that good, surely. Her first bite in, Emori let out a noise that was halfway between surprise and ecstasy. "This might be the best thing I've ever tasted. Bellamy made these?"

Echo nodded, a little frown still furrowing between her eyebrows. That she was still looking at her with such an expression was causing Clarke to fight off the urge to squirm under her gaze.

"How do you have a boyfriend that makes things that taste like this and stay looking like that?" Emori huffed at Echo.

"Bellamy's never made these for me," Echo's voice seemed smaller than usual and Clarke shifted, uncomfortable in a different way now.

"But he probably bakes your favourites all the time, right?" Clarke hoped she sounded reassuring in a way that didn't come across as placating.

"He's never baked for me. I don't think I've seen him bake at all in the time I've known him," Echo admitted.

Now Clarke was frowning. She tried not to consider any possible underlying meanings, but she had to wonder what this development meant. Bellamy had never been big into baking, and she only knew of a handful of baked goods he would make from time to time for family events when he actually had the time for it. How was she supposed to feel about the possible link between her and Bellamy apparently no longer baking at all? What was she even supposed to say to his girlfriend that didn't come across as it having been something Bellamy had mainly done for her and Octavia when either of them had been in a bad mood?

"It used to be a mood activity," Clarke finally stated. "Maybe it has to do with the distance with Octavia? He used to bake for her all the time. He still cooks for you though, right?"

"Maybe. And yes, regularly. He's a very good cook," Echo nodded, but she glanced almost pointedly down at the doughnuts, one of Clarke's favourite desserts, clearly not completely buying the Octavia line.

"There you go then," Clarke chose to ignore the elephant in the other woman's glance. "Sounds like the Bellamy I remember. Let's get you both drinks."

They rejoined the others in the living room to find the first Shrek movie was cued up and ready to go and Madi was setting up the Monopoly board with them.

"What happened to Cluedo?" Clarke wondered, taking a seat next to her daughter.

"Too many people," Madi motioned around the room. "Everyone agreed on Monopoly instead. Octavia also looked up the rules of a Shrek drinking game for you adults and I think this will be a very interesting, to-the-death kind of game," the teen grinned cheekily.

Octavia was quick to explain the rules of said drinking game, opting to sip instead of do shots so no one got drunk too quickly, and they got on with the night.

During a small break between the first and second movies, Clarke, a nice warm buzz keeping her calm, glanced across the table to see Echo giving her a peculiar look again.

Seeing Clarke was looking to her, Echo straightened. "Can I ask about something?"

The feeling that just sunk into the pit of her stomach could have been dread, but Clarke agreed anyway.

"Can I ask about the cockroach and princess nicknames I heard the other day?" Echo wondered, referring to the evening of the double date that Clarke had inadvertently become involved in.

"Well, Murphy had a pretty shitty childhood. Not in any dramatic way, just in a down-on-your-luck sort of way," Clarke explained, trying not to go into great detail as it was Murphy's life and she had no idea how much anyone else in the room knew about it. "After his father went to prison, he was put in foster care and trouble had a tendency to find him, often because he was asking for it of course, he is John Murphy after all." Emori chuckled along with her. "But no matter what was thrown at him, no matter the method used to try to force him down, Murphy always just got right back up. It wasn't exactly life or death, but since cockroaches never seem to stay dead, it somehow became the most appropriate nickname. Murphy never stays down for long."

Emori nodded her agreement, accompanied it with a thumbs up to show her approval of the eventuality.

"And you being the princess?" Echo reminded her.

"It's what Bellamy dubbed her," Octavia supplied into the quiet pause that followed, her face deadpan.

Subtle. Clarke heaved a sigh. "It actually predates Bellamy," she admitted. Now was as good a time as any to divert the attention off Bellamy's previous nickname for her. Clarke had no desire to make Echo uncomfortable with hers and Bellamy's past, and hopefully renewable, friendship. "It's what my first serious boyfriend called me."

Octavia's head shot around. "Do I finally get to hear the full Finn story?" The prospect seemed to excite her.

The memories that came along with thinking of Finn could have crippled Clarke, if she'd let them. There was so much more to 'the Finn story' than any of her family knew. But that wasn't a demon she would be talking about at a girls' night that had been tracking along very well so far. "What's there to tell?" she went with instead. "Finn moved to our school Junior year. He won me over, and became my first love. Then his girlfriend moved across town to be with him."

"Well...that explains why Murphy and Raven always found it amusing when Bellamy started calling you princess," Octavia decided. "To this day, knowing how Raven can hold a grudge, I'm surprised she became friends with you."

"And to this day I wish I had a clue that Finn already had a girlfriend. Trying to convince a hurt and angry Raven that I truly had no idea I had been sleeping with her boyfriend was a trial and a half," Clarke sighed heavily at the memory.

"Am I hearing this right?" Emori looked as if she was fighting off laughter. "It seems as if you're implying you became friends with Raven despite having once stolen her boyfriend?"

Clarke pouted, she couldn't help it, she was tilted closer to the tipsy side of the line between drunk and sober. "Unintentionally, but yes. Somehow she decided to be friends with me...eventually."

"So Murphy calling you princess has to do with this Finn guy?" Echo clarified. "Bellamy doing it is the same reason?"

Clarke paused and an awkward silence briefly held the room. "You'd have to ask Bellamy, actually. I'm not sure why he called me that, I've never asked. He doesn't do it anymore, I'm sure you've noticed." Clarke turned her attention back down to the board game.

"Let's get on with this then." Emori picked up the dice and held them out to the group. "Whose turn was it?"

And so the night continued on, Clarke trying to carefully avoid meeting Echo's eye again.

Part way into the movie, the subject somehow turned to Niylah and the tattoo she was going to the Mad Tatter to receive in the coming week. Gaia told them an amusing story about a client at her hair salon and the disastrous tattoo they had received from a parlour over in Trikru, but the lady in question had seemed to be under the impression it was the most wonderful work of art inked to human skin.

"Echo," Madi spoke up when they were done laughing. "Everyone here has been going to the Mad Tatter for tattoos for years. Do you have any tattoos?"

"Madi," Clarke chided, frowning at her daughter. "Didn't I tell you tattoos are personal and not everyone wants to talk about them?"

"It's okay Clarke," Echo was quick to reassure, smiling kindly at Madi. "I do have one." She rolled up her sleeve to reveal the very simple black arrow on her inner biceps.

"Arrows are a symbol of strength, power and direction," Clarke murmured without really deciding to speak. "How appropriate."

Echo smiled lopsidedly at her. "I didn't know about the meaning behind it when I got it, just that I had always been drawn to arrows."

Clarke couldn't help but smile with her.

"I've actually been thinking of getting another one for years now," Echo continued. "But I couldn't settle on what seemed most appropriate. Perhaps you could help me with that?"

She didn't really mean to blink in surprise, but tattoos were such a personal thing, Clarke was a little startled that Echo would be asking her. "Sure. Lincoln or I would be happy to help." She wasn't sure, but she thought a frown of confusion crossed Echo's face, so quickly it was hard to say for sure. "Depending on what you're after, we both have our specialties."

A look of understanding was definitely settling on Echo's face now. "I wanted something to remember my parents, but I was pretty young when they died so I don't have a concrete idea of what I could get. I thought of flowers, at one stage, but poppies seem to be the common remembrance flower and they weren't in the army."

"Poppies aren't just about remembering fallen soldiers. But if you want to go flowers, there are other options. Rosemary or gladiolus spring to mind." Clarke was trying to sound both moderately interested, and detached at the same time, and wasn't really sure she was pulling off either. "Depends if you want colours or not as well."

Echo had pulled her phone out to search gladiolus flowers, the expression on her face showed she was definitely interested now, and not just humouring Clarke. "Do you think you could draw something up for me? I don't mind if it's colour." Clarke was nodding her head in agreement when Echo continued. "Maybe you can convince Bellamy to finish his other tattoo while you're at it?"

"He has an unfinished tattoo?" Octavia frowned and shared a confused glance with Clarke.

"The one I designed him was finished," Clarke shrugged at Octavia's questioning gaze.

"I'll let him tell you about it then, shall I?" Echo wondered. "It's been unfinished since before he met me. I don't know the full story behind it, just that he was in a bad place when he first started getting it and then at the time changed his mind about the direction it was going in. He has commented from time to time he should get it finished. If you designed his other one, I'm sure you could fix whatever he didn't like in the original design."

Clarke tapped Octavia's arm. "You should ask him about it."

"Why me?"

"He's your brother." Clarke pulled a face at her.

"Chances are he's still more likely to listen to you." Octavia pulled a face right back, complete with her tongue peaking out.

"I saw that!" Emori abruptly pointed accusingly between Madi and Octavia, drawing everybody's attention. "There was a hand off! You two are cheating! I thought it was weird I keep having to pay the three of you."

Madi pouted and broke out her best puppy dog eyes. "Cheating? You're accusing a young girl of cheating?"

"Young girl my ass," Emori huffed and narrowed her eyes on them. "You know exactly how to get everyone to feel guilty if they try to say no to you. Your mother is the only one who doesn't let you get away with it. This is some kind of team-up, right? Is that why the three of you always seem to win everything?"

Emori's eyes turned to Octavia who just shrugged and grinned widely, following up with a simple statement. "The Blake-Griffins must remain undefeated."

"Right on Aunty O!" Madi fist-bumped Octavia and shot the room a grin that could only be described as impish.

Calling Octavia 'Aunty' wasn't a regular occurrence but O melted every time Madi broke it out, this time was no exception. In that second, the moniker made Clarke extremely self-conscious and she had to force herself not to glance at Echo to see her reaction.

"Clarke, what are you teaching your daughter?" Emori tried a different tact, pouting at her.

"That her family are extremely competitive when it comes to games and teaming up fosters better relationships?" Clarke chose to try for an innocent smile. "Surely you've noticed by now that we three don't like to lose."

Somehow the rest of the night followed on without a hitch. Clarke tried to subtly keep the topic of conversation off her and Bellamy and any past or present relationship/issues. She had to sit through one, thankfully brief, almost conversation about significant others. Shrek 2 came to an end and the group collectively agreed to end the Monopoly game, all of them being very much not sober anymore meant leaving cleanup for the morning.

For the first time in the existence of their girls' nights, sleeping arrangements became an issue. The girls always just crashed in either of Clarke's two spare rooms, but tonight there was one more person than bed space.

"Gaia can share with me," Madi offered up, surprising Clarke more than anyone.

"Are you sure you'll be okay with someone else in bed with you?" Clarke quietly checked with her daughter, Madi's well-being would always be her priority.

"Won't know until we try," Madi smiled brightly, no sign of any anxiety visible. "Besides, I share with you all the time. Gaia's basically an aunty, right? She's more of a sister than a cousin to Lincoln."

"Only if you're sure, my lovely," Clarke couldn't help the sappy feeling that overtook her. She pulled her daughter into her side for a quick peck on her temple. Madi fluffed around as if she was embarrassed, but the beam to her grin told otherwise, as did the way she wrapped her arms around Clarke's waist for a quick, tight hug before they parted.

When the house finally settled into that quiet calm that came right after everybody was tucked into bed, Clarke let out a quiet sigh and finally completely relaxed. She hadn't said or done anything she would regret. She'd count that as surviving the night.

Octavia rolled onto her side to face Clarke in the darkness. "I need to ask you something, and I hope you'll answer honestly," Octavia spoke, voice serious and a little hesitant. "I can promise I won't repeat anything."

"I know you wouldn't." Clarke frowned into the darkness, wondering what could cause Octavia to take such a tone.

"How long have you been in love with my brother?"

Clarke gasped so sharply her breath caught in her throat and she had to sit up or forget how to breathe. "What?"

Octavia sat up beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's alright Clarke. I've always suspected. But now I'm pretty sure, and I just want to know definitively so I know how to help you from now on."

"What do you mean 'help me'?"

"Well if you are, it can't be easy to see Bellamy and Echo together. I just mean if I need to keep an eye about running interference in certain situations, that kind of help," Octavia shrugged. "You seem to get a little weird and twitchy when the pair of them are right there together in front of you, but you aren't like that if you're just speaking to one or the other of them."

This was bad. Clarke dropped her head into her hands. Even Octavia could tell?! How on Earth had she expected to pull this off? What if Bellamy noticed?

"My brother hasn't noticed," Octavia offered up, clearly suddenly able to read her thoughts. "If that's what you're worrying about. I'm not sure anyone else has either. I probably wouldn't have except for the fact that I was trying to keep an eye on the situation. I didn't want my brother setting you back when you've been so good lately."

"My issues aren't Bellamy's fault," Clarke was quick to jump to his defense.

"I know that." Octavia chuckled a little dryly. "But Clarke, the two of you, romantic or not, you've always meant a lot to each other, even when you were apart. I just want to look out for the both of you so there's no relapses or anything. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for the two of you to make up. For both your sakes. Our family these days is amazing, I wouldn't trade out a single person, not even Murphy, though we both know there are times it's tempting. But you and I both know we've missed having my brother be a part of it all."

Clarke sighed heavily and nodded. Octavia had probably never spoken a deeper truth.

"So I return to my original question. How long have you been in love with my brother?"

What a simple question. The answer was far too complicated, so Clarke had to go for the easiest option. "I really don't know," she confessed with another sigh, this one half resignation, and half relief to finally admit it aloud. "It was already too late by the time I realised. Now we're different people with a huge gap and six years of missed experiences."

Octavia's other arm came up and she pressed into Clarke for a tight hug. "It'll all be okay Clarke. We'll figure it out. And no matter what, you'll always have me."

"You're the best when you want to be, you know that, right?" Clarke couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"Of course." Clarke knew the self-assured grin Octavia would be wearing, despite not being able to see through the darkness. "Besides, you've been the best for me whenever I've needed it. If that's not sisterly then I don't know what is."

"We're sisters now?" Clarke teased.

"You bet. You're stuck with me. Being stuck with each other seems like the best way to sum up our crazy family anyway."

Clarke exhaled with a small smile. Always there for each other, crazy and stuck with each other. That was their family alright.

"Let's sleep on it, yeah?" Octavia half wrestled her back down. "We'll figure it out when we're sober and alone."

Octavia was asleep moments after Clarke's murmured agreement, her even breathing verging on soft snores, and it started to lull Clarke until her eyes began to grow heavy.

Some part of her, deep down, now admitted that even after so many years she had always been a little scared Octavia had only been sticking by her for Bellamy's sake. Here and now, it was as though some of the invisible weight Clarke had always carried on her shoulders was lifted. She drifted into sleep with family sitting in her heart.

* * * Flashback * * *

Clarke took a deep breath of warm air. The Spanish sun was welcome compared to the more unpredictable weather she was expecting to experience in Germany where she'd be stationed for the next eight months. She hadn't told Bellamy yet, and this was her way of surprising him. She had been sitting on this particular surprise for a few months now, and though she had only physically seen Bellamy twice since New Year's, it hadn't been an easy feat to keep it from him. Almost every one of their numerous phone/video calls involved him asking whether or not she had heard anything about the assignment that would put her on the same continent as he was. His excitement to have her nearby was, for lack of a better word, truly endearing. She just hoped he wouldn't be too sour about their entire family, Miller included, helping her keep this secret.

In fact, Miller had been all too eager to help, constantly bringing up how Bellamy had been a bear to live with lately and how he hoped a visit from her would soften him up a bit.

She took in the long row of tall town houses, their bright shutters and doors. This place made her want to do nothing but paint for days on end, but she was supposed to start her rotation at the base hospital in a week so she didn't have that kind of time.

Clarke hitched her duffle more securely on her shoulder, the strap pulling uncomfortably, and tried to remember the house number Miller had given her. She pulled out her phone to reread the text, chuckling when it started to buzz - Bellamy's name popping up on the screen.

"Where have you been?!" Bellamy demanded when she answered, worry evident in his voice. "I've been trying to get in touch with you for sixteen hours!"

Clarke couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry Bellamy, I warned you I'd probably be out of reach for a while."

"Yeah but you could have let me know you hadn't died or something," his voice held resignation. "And no one would tell me where you were!"

"It's sweet that you worry so much," she teased, heaving a sigh when she finally spotted their door. "You really should try to dial it down a little though. It can't be good for your health."

"Don't make fun, Princess." She could almost hear the pout in his voice and it made her smile. "Are you home yet?"

"Just about," Clarke replied, grinning widely as she rang the doorbell. She could hear footsteps, and then the door opened wide to reveal a smiling Miller. "Hey Bell, I need to go but I'll speak to you in a second." She heard him grumble something under his breath before shoving her phone in her pocket just in time for Miller to give her a warm hug.

"Thank goodness you're here," he rolled his eyes, a teasing smile playing at his lips. "Maybe you can do something with him."

"Been a little grumpy I take it," Clarke snickered, knowing how Bellamy could be at times.

"The worst," Miller said throwing up his hands in defeat.

"You just gotta talk him down, Nate. You should know this by now," she gave him a wink.

Miller sighed. "I think he worries more about you than he does about Octavia. All I hear is, 'Clarke better do this,' and 'Clarke needs to do that,' and 'why doesn't she just let me know she's okay once in a while!'"

Clarke fondly shook her head. "He's going to worry himself into an early grave."

A loud bang - that sounded suspiciously like something being thrown across a room - made them both jump.

"I'd better get up there," Clarke chuckled.

"A few quick notes. As you can see main floor is common room and kitchen. I'm on the second floor, and Bellamy is up on the third."

"Thanks again Miller," she hugged him one last time before making her way up the narrow staircase. She found his door and entered without knocking, dropping her bag just inside the room.

"Miller! How many times…" Bellamy stopped mid sentence and just stared at her, his jaw slightly ajar. Time seemed to stand still for just a moment.

"Surprise," Clarke smiled, arms outstretched.

He didn't say a word. Just lunged for her, wrapping his arms tightly around her and burying his face in her neck. They stood that way for several seconds, her enjoying the solid warmth of his arms and him just seeming content to hold her close.

"You're here," he said in amazement, squeezing her a little tighter. "What are you doing here? Never mind it doesn't matter…" He gathered her even closer, if that was even possible, his smile tickling her skin.

Clarke smiled into the material covering his shoulder, hugging him back. It felt so good to see him again. She never realised how much she missed him until moments like this. "I have a week and then I need to be in Germany," she told him as they pulled apart. "Miller already made sure you'd have time to spend with me."

"You got the assignment, you're actually here!" Bellamy whooped, grinning from ear to ear. Clarke wasn't sure anyone had ever looked so happy to see her and it was making her heart melt and her insides flutter.

"Yep, we're going to be on the same continent for the next eight months. I'll have weekends off and can come and visit when I have time off and I might even be able to catch some of your games!"

His expression was one of pure delight, and it was worth everything.

"That settles it then," he pulled back suddenly, bringing out his phone. "I'm changing my flight home for summer vacation. I'm coming to Berlin. We can explore the city when you're not on shift and take weekend trips to different cities."

"What about Octavia?" He was supposed to be going home in two weeks for the whole of July, and that he was willing to give up that time with his sister was actually kind of shocking to her.

"I'll pay for her to come here instead," he decided, seeming suddenly stubbornly set on the idea. "She can keep me company when you're at work and join us for the rest of it. I'm positive she won't want to miss out on any Blake-Griffin adventures." He was already calling Octavia, one arm securing itself around Clarke.

This, Clarke suddenly realised, her insides melting and something that was most likely the softest expression she had ever worn taking hold of her face, this was true family.

* * * End Flashback * * *

Chapter Text

The morning following girls' night, after seeing all their house guests off - because let's be fair, anyone who knew Clarke wouldn't risk her attempting to make them breakfast - Clarke and Madi headed into the center of town, to their favourite diner for breakfast. Madi somehow inhaled a batch of waffles while animatedly chatting about her plans with her friends. Since Madi had decided against a party for her birthday the following day, her friends, most of whom had come up from Polis Junior High with her, were treating her to a few rounds of laser tag and lunch, and Madi was thrilled they cared enough to do so.

Just as they were finishing their breakfast, Ethan Hardy, Madi's best friend showed up to walk with Madi to meet the rest of the group. He greeted Clarke as he always did with a super polite "Ms. Griffin" that still made her almost laugh, and moments later Clarke was waving them off.

A quick time check reminded Clarke she still had a few hours before she needed to be anywhere, so she retrieved her sketching supplies from her truck and headed to her favourite coffee house, ordered a cinnamon latte and took a seat in a small booth by a window, so she could glance out onto Main Street.

What felt like moments later, someone called her name and she glanced up to find a grinning Bellamy standing by her table. "Bellamy?"

He chuckled at her. "You still zone out when you're being creative. I got you another coffee, cinnamon latte if I remember correctly. Do you mind me joining you?" He hoisted the strap of his satchel higher on his shoulder and waited.

Clarke had to pinch herself to stop herself from reacting. She could act normally around him, surely, despite having finally admitted aloud that she had been in love with Bellamy for longer than she was consciously aware of. How did she normally act around him? Panicking, she suddenly couldn't remember what normal was.

Some time during her freak out he had already taken a seat across from her and was looking at her with a combination of concern and confusion, his hand hesitating halfway across the tabletop as though he were trying to decide whether he could touch her or not.

Clarke had to physically shake herself to get her focus back on track. "Sorry, sorry, you surprised me. I didn't mean to zone out. What did you say?"

"Are you okay? You looked a little panicky for a second there." He hesitated so briefly she almost missed it and returned his hand to rest before him. "I can go if you want?" He actually looked as though that option might cause him physical pain.

"No! No." She insisted, probably with way more enthusiasm than was warranted, her heart aching at his expression. She was so screwed. "The panicky look is a lot more common than you'd think. It's almost my first response to everything these days."

"I don't remember seeing that reaction when we had that run in at the bar three weeks ago." Three weeks. So few weeks for her life to be so turned around again.

"Sure I did. You just hadn't seen me yet. I hid in the bathroom for long enough to call O and almost freak out." Well shit, that was way more information than she had wanted to give him. "An organised re-meeting would probably have gone better for both of us, don't you think?" Hopefully her smile wasn't awkward or out of the ordinary.

She must have pulled it off because after studying her suspiciously for a few moments he relaxed. "Yeah," he agreed, with a small crook of a smile of his own. "That could have gone a lot better."

"So what brings you here?" she smiled, changing the subject with the hopes of having a conversation that wasn't serious or depressing for once. She didn't need him feeling any more sorry for her than he already did. She shuffled her papers out of his way and into a messy pile and glanced around, half expecting Echo to pop out of the woodwork and make this a test for her sanity. "You're by yourself?"

"Just me," he confirmed. "I have lesson plans to organise and papers to grade. I was just stopping for a coffee before the library opens."

"You don't work at home?"

"My apartment isn't particularly cheerful," he shrugged. "I prefer the atmosphere in the library."

"It's nice to know some things will never change." She huffed out something that resembled a laugh and rolled her eyes. "What's Echo up to? I thought she said she was meeting you."

"We had a quick breakfast with Emori and Murphy during which time the girls decided they were going to spend the day together while Murphy and I both work," Bellamy replied with what looked like a carefully neutral expression. "What about you? Not working today?"

"We don't open the shop until eleven on Saturdays and my first scheduled appointment isn't until an hour after that," Clarke summarised. "Since Lincoln is opening, I'm doing drop off."

"Drop off?"

"Oh, right," Clarke startled, suddenly remembering that he wouldn't be up to date on everything. "Lincoln and I both sell some of our artwork through a couple of the local galleries. It's my turn to do the rounds today and drop off new pieces for them to sell."

"You sell your art now?" Bellamy perked up, pride for her shinning in his eyes. He had always encouraged her to try selling it.

"We have multiple cash streams these days," she smiled lopsidedly. "Including through the parlour, online and occasionally at markets."

"The tattoo parlour? What do you mean by that?"

"Well, obviously, The Mad Tatter is primarily a tattoo shop, but these days Lincoln and I work mainly by appointment so we can keep our hours more flexible. We have four other chairs that we basically rent out and make a commission from. It also allows us to get well known tattoo artists in from time to time, which brings in more people and helps with exposure too. Meanwhile, we noticed people taking an interest in some of our original tattoo sketches and so we frame the more interesting pieces and sell them."

"What a great idea."

"I still have my moments from time to time." She grinned crookedly. "It's great because it means they aren't all just siting uselessly in a display book somewhere."

He was staring at her with a soft sort of expression that made her insides quiver traitorously. "What?" she wondered suspiciously.

"Nothing," he grinned at her. "It's just good to know things are going well for you. I seem to have metaphorically stumbled across the darker side of things already."

"Even if there's less of it, the good stuff outweighs the bad," Clarke assured him, smiling softly. "It was probably better for you to find out about it sooner rather than later though, right?"

The look that flashed across his face gave her pause. It was almost guilty, and she wondered if perhaps there was something that had happened to him in the last six years that he wasn't prepared to tell her. He inhaled and his lips parted, verging on speaking, when a server brought their coffees to the table and Bellamy shook himself, a combination of disappointment and relief stamped all over his face.

"Yeah, knowing earlier helped me understand that these years weren't easy on you."

Even without seeing his expression, Clarke was pretty sure she would have recognised his response was some kind of cop out, but she reminded herself she still didn't have the right to pry at this point in their reconciliation. Besides, it wasn't as though she had told him everything yet, and she still wasn't sure she ever should.

Recognising that responding to his comment might take things in a deeper direction than either of them was obviously ready for and ruin what was shaping up to be the closest to a 'normal' conversation they'd had since reentering each other's lives, Clarke went a simpler route. "Do you realise that this is the first time we've been completely alone alone in six years?"

He blinked at her for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes. "Huh." He huffed out a laugh, then his grin spread. "Yeah, you're right. No wonder things feel a bit more normal."

There was the panicky feeling again. Was this normal? Did that mean he had noticed she had been acting strangely? Clarke reached for her coffee to cover for any odd, twitchy behaviour, sipping it quietly for a moment to gather her bearings before meeting his eyes again with a small smile. "Normal?"

"Yeah." One side of his lips quirked up in a familiar fashion. "It feels a little more like old times. No one's here to interrupt us when there's finally a flow to the conversation."

Clarke was pretty sure his girlfriend was the main culprit in the interruption department, but saying that might be a step in the wrong direction, especially when she couldn't be sure she wasn't being unintentionally biased. So she just smiled back at him and continued to sip at her coffee.

They smiled, perhaps a little stupidly, at each other for a while, before Bellamy glanced at her pile of papers.

"So what are you working on?" He nodded at her sketches.

"Nothing in particular," she admitted, nudging her pile a little to indicate he could look if he wanted, and he immediately took it as an invitation, reaching across the table and pulling them closer to leaf through. "There's a few things for clients, some just because. That one's for Echo." Was it normal to feel so nervous about the fact she had sketched some tattoo ideas at his girlfriend's request?

"Oh?" He paused to study the sketches closer. "Gladioli?" He shot her a questioning look. "Is it for her parents?"

He should know, Clarke sighed internally. Bellamy was both the reason Clarke had taken an interest in the meaning behind flowers, and the person who should know Echo and her motivation best. However, Bellamy just made a noise of acceptance in the back of his throat and kept looking through the drawings without further comment, surprising Clarke. Shouldn't he, as Echo's significant other, at the very least have an opinion on whether or not Echo would like her designs?

Bellamy, however, distracted her when he abruptly halted mid-movement to stare down at one particular design, an expression of shock taking over his face. Clarke tilted her head around to get a look at which drawing had stopped him in his tracks, but his hand was in the way and standing would have been too obvious a move. She was pretty sure there weren't any sketches of him in that particular sketchbook, but she was starting to get concerned that maybe she was remembering wrong.

She needn't have worried though, because seconds later his focus shifted to her and he held the sketch up for her to see. A half finished drawing of an antique hourglass the sand forming images in its two glass halves.

"Does this belong to anyone?" Bellamy asked, voice and expression both seeming carefully blank now.

"No." Clarke shook her head, frowning mostly out of confusion since she couldn't seem to figure out what would provoke such a peculiar reaction from him.

He paused, gaze wavering to something vulnerable for a second. "Can I have it?"

Clarke blinked stupidly at him for longer than she was entirely comfortable with before nodding. "Sure, but it's not finished yet."

"When you've finished it then?" Bellamy seemed relieved and something clicked in the back of Clarke's mind. Echo's words from the night before about Bellamy's unfinished tattoo, came back to her.

"I don't know if I'm overstepping," Clarke hated that she faltered when she asked him things nowadays. "But this wouldn't have anything to do with an unfinished tattoo Echo mentioned, would it?"

Bellamy looked surprised for a brief second before that vulnerable expression reappeared. He cleared his throat and wouldn't meet her eyes when he spoke. "It's not overstepping, but it's not something I'm ready to talk about. Especially not in a crowded coffee shop." He glanced back up at her, a hint of guilt in his eyes now. "I'm fully aware that I already know about your darkest issue, and I'm being hypocritical not wanting to tell you mine."

That struck a chord in her. The way he phrased his explanation. Not just because he was basically telling her that something truly dark must have happened to him in the last six years, but because he was assuming her PTSD was her darkest secret and she wasn't prepared to correct him.

While she was fighting off both the desire to spill everything to him, and the panic that he might find out, Bellamy continued to talk. "After my injury, I went through a bit of a rough patch. Having to readjust everything in my life so abruptly did a number on me. I started the tattoo during that time, but thankfully realised I was taking it in a direction I didn't want permanently etched onto my body before I got any further in the inking process." He shot her a tentative glance, trying to read her expression. Whatever he saw on her face must have been satisfactory, because a small smile peeked out at her. "This sketch," he tapped the drawing. "It struck me how similar it is to the original design, but it's a far more positive spin. It's almost a perfect replacement, which is shocking when you consider you've seen neither the original design nor the tattoo itself." He was outright grinning now, and Clarke wasn't really sure why.

"Well," she started, unsure as to what she was supposed to say. "I guess this sketch was meant for you then." That would have to do for now, her emotions were an indecipherable, complicated puddle right at that second. She couldn't resist one thing though, and reached out to cover his hand with one of hers, consciously trying to block out his warmth. "Thank you for sharing even that much with me." She made to retrieve her hand but he caught it in his and she froze, her system going into some sort of overdrive while it tried to decide if it was panicked or elated.

"I should be saying that to you, Clarke." Bellamy's voice had gone so deep, thick with emotion. "Allowing me back into your life after everything can't have been easy."

She wasn't comfortable with this. If she couldn't get her hand back, couldn't turn their conversation to a less emotional subject, she was going to melt down and give herself away. So she smiled, squeezed his hand before withdrawing her own and tried to ignore the extra thump her heart gave when a sour look of disappointment crossed his face with her movements. To cover herself she reached for her coffee again. "That goes both ways," she murmured, then pulled a face when she sipped at the cold coffee.

Bellamy let the disappointment fall away for a second to smile at her. "Want another?" He was still used to her drinking coffee as though her life depended on it, when these days not drinking too much was what passed as normal now.

"No actually, thanks though." She tried for a smile. "I'll have to head off soon." She glanced at the time, surprised to see just how much of it had passed them by. "Actually I should have already. The galleries are already open."

He was looking very disheartened again before hope flashed into his eyes. "Want some company?"

Clarke was surprised again. "What about your grading?"

"It can wait a little longer." He shrugged, as though blowing off work to spend time with her was still completely normal. That sounded too much like something he would have done six years before and she wasn't sure how she felt about blurring the distinction of then and now.

"Only if you're sure." The idea of keeping his company, however, even for a little longer had her full of anticipation, but her underlying anxiety was still trying to peek through and she needed the logic to stop.

Bellamy was watching her. He appeared a little unsure all of a sudden...maybe she had sounded unenthusiastic?

"You wouldn't be wasting too much time if you come along would you?" She wondered.

He smiled almost fondly at her. "I wouldn't have offered if I thought so."

She couldn't help but smile, it was just so pre-separation Bellamy. "Seems like it's going to take us a little while to stop dancing around each other," she spoke as dryly as possible while she gathered up her things. She spotted her phone flashing at her and realised she had forgotten to unmute it and missed a text from Madi.

"Everything alright?" Bellamy looked concerned.

"Yeah, sorry. It's just Madi checking in." Clarke finished gathering her stuff and led him out onto the sidewalk.

"Where is Madi?"

"Her friends are spoiling her for her birthday."

"It's her birthday?"

"Tomorrow. Chances are pretty good Octavia will bring out a cake or something tonight after dinner. Just so you know."

"I didn't get her anything though." He looked a little panicked.

"Bellamy, not only did you not know, but you're her teacher. There's no need for you to have gotten her something."

Her statement turned his expression even more sour and Clarke had to take pity on him. He wasn't aware yet of Madi's troubled childhood.

"Look, she may seem pretty cheerful and outgoing these days, but she actually gets really self-conscious about receiving things from others." Clarke halted in her steps to meet Bellamy's eyes. "In the early days, Madi would get uncomfortable just being given attention. Even now, most of the time we just have to do something with her rather than give her presents. The first time I tried to celebrate her birthday with her, it was just us and Lincoln. Madi spent half an hour crying and apologising."

Bellamy looked stricken by her statement.

"These days everyone buys her potted plants," Clarke went on. "Just whatever you do, don't apologise for not getting her anything."

He gave a hesitant nod and cleared his throat. "Octavia mentioned Madi's childhood wasn't easy. Mostly she cursed out Madi's father. I take it it's all connected?"

"Yup." Clarke made sure to imply she wouldn't say anything else on the matter. She didn't like to tell Madi's story without Madi's permission.

Bellamy seemed to take the hint, though he looked a little disappointed as they started walking again. "It's good she stays in touch at least. Even when we had mobiles, O hardly ever let me know she was okay."

Clarke chuckled at that, remembering many a venting session in which Bellamy had complained about Octavia's tendency to forget to check in from time to time. "Yeah, well, she's fifteen as of tomorrow. She doesn't need or want constant supervision, but we walk a fine line because of social services so we just had to find the happy medium that lets her have a life and independence but I still have a way to make the social workers happy about how well I'm looking out for her safety and well-being."

"I heard you're trying to adopt her?"

"It's a long process, made harder by the fact that her father is alive. The asshole doesn't want to sign over all his rights even though he's in prison and never looked after her properly to begin with." Clarke couldn't help but let the anger boil up. "Also because I'm single and not even thirty has always been an issue. Even when it's plain as day that Madi has done so much better in our family than she ever did with her own or in any of the foster homes they tried to put her in."

"Single?" Bellamy looked really confused. "But you have Roan."

Something vaguely resembling guilt pooled at the base of her guts. "Neither married nor living together," Clarke summarised. "I mean, Roan brought it up as a way to insure I could adopt Madi, but that's hardly fair to anyone. I don't want to get married just because of Madi, I think that would have been a bigger commitment than he really realised." She found she couldn't look at Bellamy as she explained this away, scared to know his reaction to it. The resulting silence between them as they walked was almost worse than the not knowing and Clarke was glad when they reached her truck.

Bellamy let out a disbelieving laugh suddenly. "Is that the truck I helped you pick out before you came over to Europe?" He was staring in some kind of awed horror at her second hand, used to be baby blue but was now very faded, pickup truck. "That was basically ancient when we picked it out. No wonder everyone makes jokes about your ride."

Clarke pouted, she couldn't help it. He'd helped her pick it out and she had been clinging to it in some kind of desperate attempt to not completely lose the memories that went along with it. "Yeah, well, I'm attached to it and I'm keeping it until it's no longer road safe." With that said, she went about her task.

Bellamy helped her lug the paintings into the gallery, hung back patiently while she spoke to the staff, then followed her back to the car and repeated the process with the next gallery.

Central Polis had four art galleries, all spaced out down Main Street or just off the main road. Clarke and Lincoln had a working relationship with all of them. This meant, however, that Clarke had to move her truck after the first two trips or carry numerous pieces of art down the street before driving right past again to get to work. When she explained this to Bellamy, he just nodded and walked around to the passenger side door, surprising Clarke, not because he was coming along, but because it took him further away then his original destination of the library.

Half curious about what he was planning to do, and half afraid that if she said anything he would change his mind and not tag along, Clarke opted to stay quiet and got on with it.

When the final gallery drop off was complete, Clarke pulled the truck into her parking space behind the Mad Tatter and led Bellamy to another cafe where she ordered a coffee for both Bellamy and Lincoln and a completely caffeine-free Chai latte for herself, much to Bellamy's obvious surprise.

"So, are you planning to follow me into work too?" Clarke finally gave in and asked as they waited for the takeaway coffees.

"Looks that way." He joked with a smirk, but a shadow of uncertainty fell across his features. "Is that alright? I mean, we're both going to O's later, yeah?"

"You're going to spend the whole day hanging around a tattoo parlour?" Clarke hadn't meant to sound so surprised, really, but she was wondering if his brain had taken a hike today. Was he forgetting that everything had changed between them? That he wasn't the same person who had dropped everything to spend as much time as he could with her? "What about getting work done?"

"I really just need a surface somewhere and I can get it done." He offered up and a little thrill shot through her when it occurred to her that maybe he really did just wanted to spend time with her, even if that meant only talking when she wasn't working.

"Okay then." She smiled brightly, feeling a little fuzzy around the edges. The lines were blurring and she couldn't bring herself to care.

"So how are you celebrating Madi's birthday tomorrow?" Bellamy wondered, bringing the conversation back to a neutral topic.

Clarke groaned before she could stop herself. "Don't ask me how it happened, but somehow we're going hiking."

"Hiking?" Bellamy let out a noise of disbelief.

"Yeah, see, you get me! And if I ever figure out who suggested the idea to Madi I might just commit murder." Clarke huffed and shot Bellamy a side glance. "If you never see me again after tomorrow, they lost me on the trail and something ate me."

Bellamy snorted out a laugh. "You may hate hiking through a forest but I'd bet on you surviving a fight with most wild animals."

She pulled a face at him. "The last time they took me hiking I ended up with a sprained ankle from stepping on a damn pebble, so maybe don't put so much faith in me." Her name was called and she handed over his coffee, picking up hers and Lincoln's cups before leading the way back onto the street and towards work. "To be fair though, Lincoln will probably hang back and make sure nothing happens to me."

"Lincoln's coming along?" There was something in his voice and the slight furrowing of his brow, but Clarke couldn't place it.

"And Roan and Octavia. You didn't think I'd be crazy enough to take my daughter out into the wilderness alone, did you?" She chuckled, trying to lighten the mood and wondering if maybe he was upset he wasn't being included. "They basically teamed up against me. But what Madi wants to do on her birthday, we do."

They entered the tattoo parlour and Clarke called a greeting.

Lincoln raised his head from where he was putting ink to skin to respond and spotted Bellamy, his eyebrows shooting up.

"Look who I ran into." Clarke grinned, and hoped for all she was worth that no one could tell how awkward she was suddenly feeling. Even Lincoln would read into this, not to mention he would tell Octavia who unlike her more subtle plus one wouldn't hesitate to grill her.

Lincoln and Bellamy exchanged a brief nod and hello and a sense of deja vu hit her. It was almost like being back to six years ago when Bellamy was a strange combination of curt and overly polite to Lincoln, but sucked it up because Clarke was in the room. Shaking the feeling off, Clarke wandered over to put Lincoln's coffee at his station, and moved off to drop her things in the backroom, momentarily surprised to find Bellamy wasn't trailing after her, before she reminded herself that this wasn't old times.

She took the few moments alone to do some breathing exercises and when she came back out, she found he had already set himself up in between her station and Lincoln's, at the bench that ran the length of the wall. The three men - Lincoln's client included - were chatting jovially. This picture of casual happiness caused her heart to stutter and she needed to take a few more deep breaths before joining them and going about setting up her station.

And so that was how the rest of the day went. Aside from when he briefly disappeared and returned with lunch for them all, Bellamy alternated between his papers and chatting with them. Meanwhile, Clarke had to practice remembering that this was not the past, and the ease with which today seemed to be going may not last. When Lincoln finished up for the day, he offered Bellamy a lift, but Bellamy just shook his head, not even looking up from his papers.

When she was finally done for the day, Bellamy was already packing away his things, and when she was done with her "boss" duties, Clarke returned to find him staring at one particular sketch framed on the wall by her station. The irony almost made her laugh, the half antique, half contemporary compass design was inked on his sister's skin.

"You like that one?" She wondered, trying to be casual.

"I do," he agreed. "There's something about it."

"You should ask your sister to see the finished design." Clarke couldn't help but grin at his stunned expression and motioned for him to follow her out, farewelling the artists staying on to work the Saturday night shift.

"That's O's?" Bellamy didn't hesitate to follow her out to her truck and climb back into the passenger side.

"She asked me for it maybe a year and a half ago," Clarke summarised, getting them out onto the road. "It was while the two of you weren't speaking to each other. She was going through a rough time and wanted something to remind her."

"Remind her of what?" There was something in his voice, a hesitancy or almost fear, that made her glance over to check on his well being.

"Of you, Bellamy." She tried for a soft, comforting smile. "She said you were always her guide, her compass, and things went a little to hell after she cut you out of her life...have the two of you not spoken about your time apart from each other?"

"Apparently not enough." Another glance showed Bellamy was frowning worriedly. "She kept implying that nothing had gone badly for her."

"You might consider rectifying that when you're both ready then." She should probably feel guilty about putting Octavia in this position, but Clarke knew Octavia hadn't really fully moved on from anything that had happened in the two and a half years Bellamy hadn't been a part of her life. "But since it isn't my place to say anything further, and you and I haven't even talked about six years ago, I probably shouldn't be offering up advice about talking things through, should I?" She huffed at herself in annoyance, both for her choice of words, and bringing that back to the forefront.

"Maybe when we're both ready, we can get to that?" Bellamy's tone was tentative and she could see from the corner of her eye, that he was avoiding looking at her.

A silence stretched out between them for too long before Clarke decided what to say. "I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to hash out everything from six years ago, but that might be my anxiety talking." She let out a long exhale to try to steady herself, and kept her eyes focused on navigating the streets. "But there is one thing I should say. Our fight, I regretted it, and not just down the line. As it was happening. I don't want to make excuses for myself, but I was in a bad place and I think I pushed you away because I wanted to tell you about it. Everything after, with the group fall out...I didn't expect any of that to happen and what had started out as thinking I was giving you time to cool down and me to figure out how to fix it, became me running away and not having the courage to call you when I should have."

"Clarke," the timbre of his voice almost broke her.

"Not right now, please." She realised that sounded a little too much like begging, as she shook her head to ward off darker thoughts. "I just needed to say it. The rest can wait. I've really been enjoying today and not letting darkness touch it. Can we stick to that?"

He paused for a few uncomfortable moments. "Of course Clarke," came out on a sigh she refused to analyse the tone of.

They rode in a silence that was somewhere between uncomfortable and companionable for a few blocks before Clarke couldn't stand it anymore.

"So something came up last night and it's made me really curious." She started hesitantly. "Do you mind if I ask why you used to call me Princess?"

Bellamy shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable, so she went on speaking.

"Did I ever tell you that it's what Finn used to call me? It's part of why it annoyed me so much when you started using it. I'm sure your reasoning can't be any worse than his excuse that I was richer than our peers and that somehow made me the school princess." She shot him a sidelong glance, noticing his annoyed frown. "It used to annoy me when he said it too."

"That's some pretty shitty reasoning." He commented. "And childish too. How come you never told me that?"

Clarke shrugged and refused to look back over at him. She couldn't tell him it was because she had eventually grown to like the affection in his tone. "Originally I didn't like you enough to tell you the whole backstory. Then I got used to it and thought that, if I told you, you would stop."

Bellamy seemed to hesitate for a few more seconds. "Promise not to get annoyed at me?"

"Promise." She nodded once.

"One reason was probably because that first night we met, I was a little embarrassed to have been caught having a drunken one night stand with someone I considered a friend, I was already worried things would be awkward between Raven and I in the morning, since it wasn't my best performance, given how much I'd had to drink. Thankfully, to this day, everyone who knows about it has just pretended like it never happened." Bellamy scoffed at himself. "But honestly, the main reason, even landed on your arse with smudged makeup all over your face, you reminded me of an angry Disney princess. All simmering death glare but totally calm and focused and classy. It came out without me really meaning to say it and I just couldn't stop myself after that."

She really couldn't help but laugh. "I'll take angry Disney princess over spoiled rich kid any day."

"I used to like to pretend that night never happened," Bellamy admitted quietly, shifting in his seat again. She almost couldn't resist glancing over. "But if it hadn't, we would have met in a completely normal way and I don't know that our friendship would have ended up playing out the way it did."

Well, that seemed deeply emotional somehow. Clarke thought, as her insides squeezed and she fought off a sudden swell of emotions. What was she supposed to say to something like that?

Thankfully their arrival at Octavia's place saved her from having to.

Upon entering, some of their family was far more subtle than others, only casting them a few sideways glances. Of course, then you had Murphy who openly took them in with raised eyebrows and arms crossed over his chest.

"Anyone else just get a crazy strong sense of deja vu?" Surprisingly that comment came straight from Miller, and the various noises of agreement caused Clarke to suppress a squirm of discomfort until Madi caught her attention and waved her over in her usual exuberant fashion.

Clarke received a tight hug before Madi continued to regale their family with her adventures for the day, and Clarke quickly turned her back on the sight of Bellamy and Echo's greeting kiss.

Barely seconds later she felt him at her elbow before she consciously noticed him, and glanced at Bellamy to find him giving her a sidelong look she couldn't quite identify. His eyes met hers and she gave him a tentative smile that he returned with a much wider one, that conveyed something suspiciously like relief.

His presence right beside her while they were surrounded by their family was making her hyperaware, and that familiar panicked fluttering returned to her diaphragm. It was all too reminiscent of the old them, and she wasn't that person any longer. So, like a coward, she looked to Octavia, caught her eye and tried to subtly beg for rescue. The younger Blake didn't even hesitate to act as though she had just remembered something she needed to urgently talk to Clarke about and pulled her out of earshot.

"That was freakishly close to being like old times." Octavia breathed a sigh of relief. "My brother actually moved as though he was going to automatically follow us. What the hell happened today?"

"I ran into him getting coffee and somehow he ended up spending the day doing his grading at the shop. I just couldn't bring myself to send him away." Clarke wasn't even sure which emotion was coming through in her voice, but she was enforcing keeping her face carefully neutral for the rest of the night.

"Well then, we can add that to the growing list of discussion points needing to be revisited next time we're alone." Octavia rolled her eyes. "On another note, I tried to convince Roan to come for dinner and failed."

"He never comes here for family dinner." Clarke frowned, confused as to why Octavia had suddenly invited him.

"I thought he would be a useful distraction from my brother and Echo." Octavia's efforts on her behalf had Clarke tearing up just a little, her heart melting. "Madi's birthday seemed like a perfectly natural excuse to finally actually invite him. As it happens, he had dinner plans already, but since he was staying at yours tonight anyway, he said he'd stop by after dinner and bring a cake."

"You're someone truly special when you want to be," Clarke spoke with a grin and next thing she knew, Octavia was hugging her tightly and she was returning the sentiment and the two of them were laughing at each other tearing up over practically nothing.

Clarke saw Bellamy take a worried step towards them but the ensuing laughter seemed to give him pause, and he frowned in obvious confusion.

"That's it." Murphy declared with a shake of his head. "They've finally lost the plot."

"It was about time we caught up with you, don't you think?" Clarke retorted, pulling a face at him, and everyone was laughing in hearty agreement...except for Bellamy. There was an expression in the crinkle around his eyes that threatened to break her heart.

Clarke was still debating whether she was strong enough to ask him about it when Echo pulled his attention away and Lincoln started pulling dinner out of the oven. The rambunctious bunch that was her family took their seats, and she managed to catch a flash of disappointment as it crossed Bellamy's face before he followed Echo to sit at the opposite end of the table to Clarke. She also couldn't help but notice that he seemed less involved in the general cheer of the table during dinner.

In the lag between their meal and dessert, when Clarke disappeared into the kitchen with Octavia to tidy up the dishes, Bellamy followed them in and offered to help so his sister could sit and enjoy the full house. Octavia shot her a questioning glance that produced a glimmer of hurt in Bellamy's gaze before Clarke smiled at him and shooed Octavia away. Bellamy didn't hesitate to take her place and they worked in quiet synchronicity for a few moments while Clarke tried to decide what she should say to him.

She chickened out in the end and flicked some suds at him, which quickly dissolved into a childish bubble flinging fight.

With a great deal of effort, Clarke eventually got them back on track before things really got out of hand, and they were just loading the last of the dishes in the dishwasher when Clarke caught sight of Roan appearing over Bellamy's shoulder. She hadn't heard him come in, or really been aware of anything else going on in the adjoining room. She was in so much trouble going forward.

"Hey Blondie. Bellamy." Roan gave Bellamy a nod and moved to peck Clarke on the lips.

"Roan." Bellamy returned, almost visibly uncomfortable all of a sudden.

Just like that, Bellamy pulled away from Clarke. He stuck by Echo's side for the rest of the night. Outwardly he put out more cheer than he had during dinner, and sang along with everyone when they sung Madi 'Happy Birthday' over the cake. He even wore that lopsided smirk Clarke remembered so well when he presented Madi with a small cactus, he confessed to having picked it up from the florist beneath the Mad Tatter when he went out to buy their lunch when Clarke sidled up to him and asked - he really needed to stop doing sweet things like that or her sanity wouldn't stand a chance.

But he wouldn't meet her eyes, and Clarke couldn't make heads or tails of it.

It was when everyone was saying their goodbyes that she finally got up the courage to be the one to approach him again.

"Thanks for today," she murmured, letting her honest appreciation make an appearance for him. "I really did like spending time together again."

He studied her for a moment before that genuine but lopsided smile showed up. "Me too. We should try doing it on purpose next time."

Feeling especially brave for a moment, Clarke reached out to lightly grip his hand. "Call me any time, Bellamy. Awkward or weird or whatever, you're still my family too."

His eyes seemed suspiciously damp as he pulled her in for a quick hug before they each pulled back and went their separate ways.

Clarke couldn't help but think that, no matter the circumstances, his hugs still felt incredibly similar to home.

- ~ Flashback ~ -

The atmosphere had grown awkward very quickly with Gina's arrival. To be fair, no one in their right mind would be happy to find their boyfriend sharing space with a woman they didn't know. And if Clarke had realised just how close they had been sitting, or that Bellamy even had a girlfriend who might drop by unexpectedly, she would have been a lot more conscious of her actions.

As it was, now that Gina had pulled Bellamy upstairs and slammed the door for good measure, all Clarke could do was shoot Miller a look across their dinner. "You didn't think maybe it would be handy to factor his girlfriend into the whole, surprising him and spending the week with him?"

Miller cringed guiltily. "To be honest, I kind of forgot about her." He admitted. "I mean, she's usually sort of just there in the background on the rare occasion she comes out with us. Plus, she hasn't been 'round in a while. I thought they'd broken up. How come you didn't already know? He tells you everything."

"Bellamy saying he's seeing someone usually just means a regular but casual bed buddy." There was no way to not sound defensive here. "I didn't realise there was actual dating involved. She doesn't look like the usual girls he favours."

"You mean slutty?" Bryan snickered from beside his boyfriend. "But seriously, for someone who's been getting laid regularly, he's been in a pretty shitty mood lately."

Muffled arguing filtered down to them and they almost laughed at how all three of them appeared to be straining to listen in.

"I'd suggest you go help him," Miller started, staring at the ceiling with an expression of mixed emotions. "But if he didn't tell his girlfriend his best friend is a girl, it's kind of on him."

"You think I'm his best friend?" Clarke softened giddily and the couple across from her laughed at her.

"I believe I've already mentioned that he talks about you more than Octavia." Miller rolled his eyes at her, grinning. "And drops everything when you call or message him. Tells you pretty much everything, actually pays full attention when you talk. And in case you haven't noticed, he's maybe the happiest I've ever seen him now you're here."

"Even I've noticed that his bad moods disappear when he talks to you." Bryan added.

Bellamy's phone started chirping from where he had left it beside his place at the dinning table, saving Clarke from having to respond. Octavia's name flashed across the screen for a video call. She knew she would have to think about the whys later, but Clarke didn't hesitate to reach over and answer.

"Say hi, O." Clarke turned so she, Miller and Bryan were all visible on the screen.

"Where's Bell?" Octavia wondered when the greetings were done.

"Arguing with his girlfriend," Bryan chimed in.

"Girlfriend? He has a girlfriend?" Octavia frowned, confused. "Like, an actual girl who's more than just a friend?"

"Seems like it."

"Huh. Well, that's a new development." Octavia raised surprised eyebrows now. "I don't think Bell has ever had an actual, proper girlfriend before."

"There's a first for everything, right?" Clarke grinned. The situation was pretty amusing, despite the awkwardness.

"Sure, sure. I just thought..." Octavia trailed off, giving Clarke a considering look. "You know what, never mind. I was calling because of this me coming to Europe thing that Bellamy left me a message about."

"You're coming, right?" Clarke frowned. "He's really excited."

Octavia snorted and rolled her eyes. "He's excited because you're there. But yeah, I probably will. I wish Lincoln could come too though. Any chance you could convince my brother?"

"I'm not a miracle worker." Clarke huffed. "It's obviously going to take time for him to warm to the person sleeping with his sister, no matter who it is. Besides, isn't Lincoln about to start mentoring a training program? Would he even be able to get the time off?"

"Not so sure about that first bit. And probably not, but it didn't hurt to have the option." Octavia's raised eyebrows somehow made her look as though she was laughing at her. "But putting all that aside for a moment, fill me in on the girlfriend? What's she like? Why are they arguing?"

"Apparently she wasn't aware I was also a she. That's the most I can say, I barely got an introduction."

"There's a pretty simple explanation for that Clarke." Octavia raised her eyebrows at her, though her serious expression quickly dissolved into a mischievous grin. "He talks to you more than anyone. Excessively so. If Lincoln was doing that and I suddenly found out it was with another woman, I'd be feeling pretty threatened."

"Jealous too." Bryan chimed in. Bryan really wasn't very helpful.

"So this is my fault?"

"Nope. It's my brother's." Octavia laughed.

They heard footsteps on the stairs and looked around to see Bellamy and Gina reappear.

"Clarke, turn me." Octavia ordered, and Clarke started, tilting the phone around.

"Is that O?" The pinched expression around Bellamy's lips and eyes didn't lessen as he collected the phone Clarke held out for him.

"Are you joining us for the rest of dinner?" Miller asked into the silence while Bellamy hid in the hallway to talk to his sister.

"No, thanks, I was just stopping by." There was an equally pinched expression on Gina's face, and Clarke couldn't help but feel both bad for and guilty towards Gina.

"You should join us some time," Clarke offered, tying to be distantly kind in a way that the other woman hopefully wouldn't feel patronised. "I'm only here for the week, but you should come along when you aren't busy."

"Thank you." The surprise was obvious, but there was something in Gina's eyes that suggested she wasn't entirely sure what the catch was.

Bellamy came back into the room and Gina bid him goodbye, one hand pressed over his heart and a long kiss that had Clarke raising her eyebrows and trying to figure out if it was some kind of display of ownership. When she was done, Bellamy just waved her off and rejoined them at the table as if nothing had happened, completely ignoring the curious stares of his companions.

It wasn't until Bryan and Miller had gone for the night, Miller staying at Bryan's for the week so Clarke could borrow his bed, that Bellamy brought the subject of Gina up again, completely out of the blue.

"Gina was annoyed that Bryan was here to meet you but she didn't get an invite."

"Okay..." How was she supposed to roll with that? "Is there a reason you didn't want her to meet me?"

Bellamy just shrugged, so Clarke left it alone, going back to the train schedules so they could finish planning out what they had time to sightsee throughout the coming week. They had been debating whether they had the time to fly or train out to any other cities when he had changed the subject.

"She booked a flight to come and spend some time in Trikru while I was there. As a surprise."

It was the fact that he didn't seem thrilled at the idea that really caught Clarke's attention now. "That's a problem?"

"How would you feel if the person you were seeing invited themselves out, without telling you, to meet your family?" It wasn't a retort, but an honest to goodness, genuine question.

"I feel like you're asking me for relationship advice."

He glanced at her, a wariness in his eyes she wasn't used to seeing. "I think maybe I am."

"You do realise I've had a grand total of one serious relationship that turned out to be his side relationship, right? I'm hardly the best person to ask." Clarke wasn't sure why she couldn't seem to bring herself to just answer his question.

"One more than I've ever had," he muttered, weakening a resolve she hadn't realised she had to not get involved in his relationship. "But I trust you to give me an honest opinion." Trust, such a dangerous word.

"Look, I don't even know her. The most I can think to say on a relationship is why are you in it? Do you genuinely care for her, or is it just nice to have someone?" She had always asked herself something along those lines when she thought about whether it was strange to be single.

"It can't be somewhere in between?"

"I don't know Bell. You usually think with your heart, so just trust that. If it's right, it will work itself out, won't it? Soulmates don't always happen overnight, right?"

That seemed to startle him out of his thoughts. "You believe in soulmates?"

"That there's one perfect, destined person out there for everyone? I'm bisexual, Bellamy, so would that then mean that I have a soulmate in each gender, or that it's a luck of the draw which gender my soulmate is?" Clarke let out a little chuckle. "Either way, I prefer to believe that a soulmate isn't some preordained thing, and that everyone can find someone that will grow into being their soulmate. Not someone to complete you, but someone to just make your life better."

She was feeling self conscious with the look he was giving her.

"That's beautiful Clarke." He grinned at her, and threw his arm over her shoulders to hug her into his side. He turned his attention back to the papers in front of them, subject obviously closed. "I'm thinking we train to Valencia and Madrid only if there's time. Fly to Granada and Seville, and Lisbon for the weekend. Shorter travel times means we'll actually have more time to explore and there's things in each city I know you'd rather see."

"Sounds good." Clarke burrowed into his warmth, but an evil, niggling thought at the back of her mind couldn't help but wonder if he believed in soulmates.

Chapter Text

Tuesday was shaping up to be a bad day. Bellamy wasn't sure if it was just him, or if the world was in a horrible mood. His head ached, he was moody, on edge, and his knee wouldn't stop throbbing. By the end of the school day he was struggling to suppress the tremor in his hands.

There were not enough distractions and he knew he shouldn't be alone on a day like this. His first instinct was to call Clarke which sent a burst of anxiety through him because if, after less than a month, she was already the first person he thought of...well he might just be in trouble. He hadn't even figured out how to tell her about the issues he had developed in the last six years let alone prepared himself for the conversation.

And then there were the few people who actually knew about his issues who should have been top of his list. His girlfriend for one, but after shoving down the surge of guilt he reminded himself that he knew she was working a stake out tonight. Miller was next, but week nights were either spent with Jackson during his rare time off or spent picking up extra guard duties to lighten the load on his security team.

Which only left Octavia. As much as his sister had matured, it was still hard for him to go to her for help on days like this. So he tried Miller, just in case, only to catch him on his way to meet Jackson for a date night. Good for Miller, but unfortunate for Bellamy.

Alone time would be good for him, he tried to reason...perhaps, for once, he would be able to convince himself to be fine on his own.

He wasn't even home a full hour before he couldn't take the solitude any longer and was in his car and on the road before his phone had finished connecting to his sister.

It rang out twice and he was already halfway to O's when he finally got a hold of her.

"Hi Big Brother," she greeted, almost cheerfully, which gave him pause.

"Hey O." He hadn't meant to stutter over his words, but it had been a long time since he had heard that tone in her voice when it was directed his way. "Echo's working late and I remembered Lincoln works Tuesday nights, so I thought maybe I could stop by and spend some time with you."

"Ah," he could already hear the rejection in her tone. "Sorry Bell, I'm not at home."

"Oh." He had to shove the disappointment down. "That's alright. I should have called earlier or something. Next time." He pulled over so he could end the conversation before turning back for home or coming up with some other idea of what to do with himself. To give himself time to calm and reevaluate how he was going to cope tonight.

There was a pause before his sister's voice came over the line again. "Is this one of those days you don't want to be alone for?"

"Yeah," he said on a relieved sigh. Man did he love his sister, that she knew without him having to say it. Two and a half years they hadn't spoken to each other and she had grown so much as a person in that time that six months back into repairing their relationship she was just so much more understanding than he remembered.

His sister paused again and the muffled noise suggested she had covered the mic to speak to someone else. "319 Thirteenth Street," she said when she came back on.

"What?"

"I'm at Clarke's." His heart gave an extra strong thump. "You should join us."

Was he even allowed to show up at her place by his sister's invitation? Bellamy wasn't sure he was comfortable with the idea that the answer might be no. "Is that okay?"

"I'm not a child," Octavia huffed. "I wouldn't just invite you to someone else's place. Clarke partially overheard and suggested it. Madi, Murphy and I are the only ones with her. You'll probably enjoy having less people around while you spend time with her, right?"

He couldn't deny that that was an appealing idea, but today wasn't his best day. "I don't want to show up at Clarke's for the first time empty handed."

"Then help Murphy cook or something instead. Now stop making excuses and just come over."

"I'm not ready to tell Clarke." He sighed heavily with the addmision.

"Then don't, Bell." Was that sympathy he could hear in his sister's voice? "See how you go and if it gets too hard, we can leave."

"You'd do that?"

"We're family." He could somehow hear her shrug.

"Can she still hear you?" Bellamy really hated this insecure feeling that was consuming him.

"Nope, I left the room."

"I love you, O."

"Love you too, Bell. Does that mean you're coming over?"

"Yeah. 319, you said?" He flicked on his indicator and turned his attention back to the road.

"You can't miss it. See you soon." With that, Octavia hung up on him.

Octavia's place was just off Thirteenth Street so Bellamy didn't have a problem finding his way to Clarke's and a little laugh fell out of him when he pulled up in front of 319. His sister hadn't been wrong, the pops of brightness stood out from all the other houses he had driven by.

He had never really thought of a house representing the people who lived there, had lived in apartments for as long as he could remember. And even though the interior of Octavia and Lincoln's new place had been decorated to match their style, the exterior was traditional with a modern coloured coat of paint.

Clarke's house, on the other hand, was so...Clarke.

There was no picket fence, just a row of sunflowers that almost reached his shoulder bordering the pavement. The mailbox appeared to be a cleaned up antique, bright red with an embossed crest and 'LETTERS ONLY' in bold capitals, perched atop a swirl of black iron. The lawn wasn't lawn at all, but moss that wove between the flagstone pavers of the pathway and driveway. There was another row of bushes he couldn't identify in the fading light that ran along the front of the house.

The weatherboards of the house had been painted a contemporary grey sometime in the last few years, the trimmings all in white, and the door was a lively mustard yellow.

He couldn't help but snort out a chuckle when the dimmed porch light flashed brighter the closer he got and he spotted the small white daisies and vibrant autumn leaves that had been painted around the vintage door handle and door knocker. The house was outwardly simple, but all the pops of colour gave it so much personality.

Even the sound of the doorbell when he pressed it was unique. A calm, but somehow still cheerful, tune of wind chimes.

Octavia was the one who answered the door to him. "Bellamy's here." She called into the house, then turned back to him. "It's housework day," she said by way of explanation. "I was bored at home so I thought I would help out."

"You weren't kidding when you said you lived close by." Octavia stole his coat and hung it off one of a series of quirky, mismatched doorknobs that were sticking out of the wall by the door and now served as a form of coat rack, if the other two coats hanging similarly were anything to go by. He already loved the place, from the unique coat hangers, to the muted but colourful bohemian rug in the entrance, to the tall Monstrera plant that sat in the corner across from the door, and he'd only seen the front hall.

Murphy stuck his head into view at the end of the hallway and called a hello. Bellamy was still returning it when his attention was pulled to Madi, coming down the stairs in a leaping sort of way that made his stomach jump anxiously, her level of exuberance and energy not seeming safe while maneuvering down stairs.

He was both startled and completely emotionally touched by the way Madi threw her arms around him and squeezed, moving back before he even had a chance to think about reciprocating.

That was when he noticed Clarke, partway down said stairs, leaning her hip against the banister, arms crossed, but with the softest and most indulgent expression of affection he had ever seen her wear on her face.

Meeting his eyes, she came the rest of the way down to join them all, and when she hit the bottom tread, he opened his arms and she walked right into them without missing a step.

A sigh of relief slipped out of Bellamy, unbidden. His body was already relaxing. Clarke always seemed to force his troubles to the back burner in a way that took the tension and stress right out of him. Having her in his arms like this, warm and corporeal against him, he couldn't describe how it made him feel that anything could be put to rights.

In what felt like too short a time, she pulled back to smile at him and offer him a spoken welcome to her home.

"You have moss instead of lawn." Came out of his mouth as a way to force himself to lighten his disappointment.

"Yup, super low maintenance and green all year round." Clarke grinned at him and motioned for him to follow her.

Her house really was shaping up to be a place he loved. The walls were a shade of white that didn't come across as overly bright or crisp, the timber floorboards were light too, but there was colour everywhere. In the artworks hanging on the walls, and the plants placed about the room. In the muted pinks and blues and oranges in the otherwise off-white rug on the floor, and in the sofas and armchairs, one of which was a wonderfully odd shade of mustard that somehow matched the blush and olive tones in the other seats, even the mismatched throws and cushions scattered around somehow still felt cohesive.

The most Clarke thing about the room though, were the tiny images painted into corners and architraves. Some of flowers, one of distant birds in flight. His favourite was the two random little goldfish by the window seat.

This room shouldn't have matched, but somehow it did, and it was putting a huge smile on his lips. Turning to Clarke, he was surprised to find an answering smile that he could only describe as being shy.

"Bellamy." Madi's voice turned his head to the teen. "Here you go." She held out a small, nondescript box to him, and he took it, blinking in confusion between Madi and the box. "Open it." Madi huffed at him.

Prompted into action, Bellamy opened it to find an amethyst geode nestled within. It didn't clear up his confusion, so he glanced to Clarke for some help.

"Why don't you explain, Madi?" Clarke encouraged.

"Oh, right, so we went hiking for my birthday the other day and they were selling crystals, so I got one for everyone." Madi blazed through her explanation. "I didn't want to give it to you in school because I thought that might seem weird. But there you go." She motioned to the boxed crystal in his hand. "I have one for Echo too, but I'll give it to her when I see her. Yours is amethyst because it can relieve stress and soothe irritability, balance mood swings, dispels anger, rage, fear and anxiety." Madi ticked them off on her fingers.

It was just a purple crystal, but the thought behind it was beginning to squeeze all his emotions out into the open for all to see.

"Thanks Madi." He barely choked on the words at all.

"You're welcome." Beaming, Madi announced she had homework to finish and disappeared back up the stairs.

Bellamy finally noticed Octavia had disappeared at some point as well, and it was just he and Clarke in the room now.

"Want a bit of a tour?" Clarke offered and he agreed.

The closed door to her studio/study was pointed out, same with the downstairs bathroom. She led him into the dining area, where a whitewashed timber table could easily seat their entire group of odd, non-biological family members, plus a few extras, with its offbeat chairs that were painted various muted colours that yet again somehow came together.

Murphy had taken over the kitchen, items scattered all over the solid wooden bench top. It was a combination of clean white cabinetry and open wooden shelves that were in the same vein as the benches. The wall that housed the stovetop was tiled a deep teal green. The butler's pantry door was wide open, revealing that it matched the adjoining kitchen.

"This wonderful kitchen is wasted on her, isn't it?" Murphy lamented when Bellamy complimented him on the wonderful aroma that permeated the air.

A quick glance at Clarke's pout had him laughing and agreeing.

With a mildly annoyed huff, Clarke led Bellamy out to the back porch and showed off the large backyard, lit by strings of festoon lights and soft recessed floor lights. He could see half was sectioned off into raised garden beds and what appeared to be a small greenhouse was located by the back fence next to a gardening shed.

"This is huge Clarke." Bellamy was both awed and horrified. "How do you look after it all?"

"The house, or the garden?" Her tone was jovial but her expression was serious.

"Both? Either?" He hadn't even seen upstairs.

"Gardening is therapeutic, I've found," she admitted with a hint of shyness Bellamy wasn't used to seeing. "Madi and I both like trying to grow things and a lot of it was already here when we moved in. The house, well, any opportunity to avoid cleaning it." She laughed at herself and indicated that what she was currently doing passed as an excuse to further avoid it.

"Not many people would have managed to get a place like this from someone they never met." He hoped that hadn't come out as him thinking she seemed ungrateful, it was plain as day that she appreciated what having this place had done for her and Madi. For good measure, to make sure she didn't misunderstand his tone, he grinned and added. "Looks like karma is in your favour. This place must have a lot of history to it."

"Yeah, you'd probably enjoy looking into the history of my family," Clarke spoke in a dry tone now. "Apparently there was this whole big thing about how the Polis Griffins and the Arkadia Griffins didn't get along. It's from my great grandfather's generation, but as far as I'm aware, Dad's branch of the family has been in Arkadia for more generations than that so how there ended up being Griffins in Polis they didn't get along with is a bit of a mystery."

And that mystery sure appealed to Bellamy. "I'll have to see if I can find anything sometime."

Before they could say anything further, Murphy called them in for dinner and there was a sudden flurry of motion where Clarke, Octavia and Madi lay out table settings, fetched drinks, and generally prepared for the meal. Bellamy was somehow left aside to watch on in horrified amazement for the few moments it took before he moved to help Murphy serve up the food.

Over a mouth-watering meal of lemon chicken, served with various roasted vegetables and a herb bread Bellamy couldn't believe Murphy had made from scratch, the small group chatted about their day, complained about rude people, and generally mundane things that somehow still took on a cheery note when Madi was the one relaying them.

The topic of Murphy and Emori's moving day the coming Sunday cropped up, and Clarke was baffled that Bellamy hadn't known it was so soon. The look on Murphy's face suggested that Bellamy and Echo had originally been left out of the plans, despite having offered their assistance, because it had predated Clarke and Bellamy being back in each other's lives. Funnily enough, Bellamy wasn't the least bit mad that Murphy had put Clarke first anymore, it was becoming more and more apparent just how much Murphy had been doing for her the last few years.

It was after dinner, when Madi had disappeared back upstairs, and Clarke and Octavia were finishing the washing up, even though Bellamy had tried to insist he should do it, that he was reminded of how badly his day had been going prior to arriving, and it unraveled from there.

Bellamy had made to stand, to take a turn fetching he and Murphy another drink each, when his knee had seized up and he'd landed himself back in his chair with a noise of pain.

"Your knee's playing up?" Murphy was immediately concerned, and the girls glanced over worriedly. "Want a painkiller?"

"No!" He had answered way too fast, punctuated by Clarke dropping a dripping plate back into the sink and spinning to face him.

"Good thing." Murphy chuckled, not noticing anything was amiss. "Clarke keeps all the meds hidden away somewhere."

Bellamy went tense, his eyes flicking to Clarke's own widened gaze, and the colour drained from both their faces. Somehow with this one simple interaction, she looked as though she had figured out his deepest shame.

Octavia picked up conversation with Murphy, changing the topic, but Bellamy couldn't seem to take his eyes off Clarke where she was quietly leaving the room to head out back.

A sick feeling in his gut, Bellamy glanced at his sister, seeing that she was intent on distracting Murphy, before making the decision to follow Clarke. He found her sitting on the porch steps, her chin resting on her raised knees, hugging her legs.

The step above her seemed like the best vantage point to still see some of her reactions without obviously watching her so he settled there, elbows on his thighs and fingers clenched together anxiously, and he waited.

"I just needed some air." Clarke offered tonelessly. "You didn't have to follow me."

"Seemed like a good idea given how you reacted." His tone was deceptively calm, even to his own ears. "You can ask you know."

"It isn't any of my business."

"Since we're trying to be something resembling friends again, I disagree." Bellamy pushed.

"It was the painkillers for your knee, right?"

"Yes." It shouldn't have surprised him that she could apply logic even knowing so few of the facts. He took a deep breath to steel his nerves. "They made all my pain go away and before I knew it I needed them for more than just my knee."

The sound of a sob caught in her throat before he watched her shoulders rise with a deep inhale. "How long were you relying on them?" He understood her implication in the word.

"Before I was willing to admit to myself that I had a problem? Around sixteen months." He was too ashamed to raise his eyes to look at her even when she let out a small gasp. "I thought I could kick it on my own and failed horribly. I was a nightmare to be around for a solid three months while I tried and failed by myself. Then O and I had that epic fight and she stopped talking to me. Miller helped me check into rehab right after. I had to take the next few months off work. Everyone thinks that detoxing is the worst part," he went on quietly, too nervous to stop talking now. "It takes a toll on your body but-"

"-the constant struggle to stay clean afterwards is the worst," she finished for him.

The blood drained from his face and dread took a seat on his chest. "How do you know that?" If she had had some kind of fight against an addiction on top of her PTSD, he wouldn't be able to handle it.

"My mum." Clarke glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "A bit over three years ago her partner called me at his wits' end because Mum had overdosed after just getting clean." She ran her hands tiredly over her face. "It's scary how many doctors are substance abusers and Mum had had a problem for years at that point. I didn't have to help her, I suppose, but seeing what she'd been reduced to..." she trailed off with a resigned sigh. She was likely imaging him like that now and it made him shudder. Most people thought they understood, but unless you experienced it first hand you couldn't.

"Clarke." Bellamy rested a hand on her shoulder and was relieved when she reciprocated by moving hers to rest on his knee.

"She stayed with us for a while and has managed to stay clean since." Clarke chuckled dryly. "We're actually on pretty good terms these days for the first time in over a decade, if you can believe it. I even went to her wedding when she got remarried last year." A fond smile peeked out briefly.

"There's hope for us all then." Bellamy smirked but the smile dropped off his face when their eyes met and her face fell. "Clarke?"

"I can't believe you tried to do it alone." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm not surprised really, but it isn't something that should be dealt with alone."

"What else could I do? After all our mum's issues I was too ashamed to tell O. Echo wasn't in the picture yet. And our friends are great but I didn't want to need any of them..." He trailed off, leaving it unsaid that she hadn't been there, that he couldn't allow himself to need someone the way he had needed her.

"I would have come." She told him fiercely, meeting his eyes with a hardened stare. "Even if you hated me, I would have come."

He believed her, and everything in him lightened just a little. "I never hated you," he told her, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the fact that he could still believe in her so easily. "But I hated how weak I was being, giving in to the addiction. Calling you after three years of silence would have been like giving in to a different weakness, especially if you hadn't answered."

"I can relate." The words were spoken so quietly as she turned her face away that he almost missed it, but the implications of the three words made him tense.

"Why's that Clarke?" He demanded.

She sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead. "I'm not sure either of us is ready for that conversation."

"Clarke." His free hand gripped hers where it still rested on his knee.

Her face carefully blank, Clarke took a moment to assess him. "You know I have PTSD. But even before my injury and discharge I was pretty...low. Jasper's death on Maya's anniversary brought forth a lot of feelings of being worthless that I had let go unchecked. Rehab wasn't going well, which was wholly my own fault. At my lowest point I had convinced myself that I was a cancer and that everyone was better off without me - that no one would really miss me."

Bile rose up the back of his throat when Bellamy realised where her confession was going and his body turned to ice, his hands beginning to shake uncontrollably.

"I had a gun, but that would have been too messy when I had pills left over from my surgery."

Bellamy was going to be sick, he was sure of it, as the world started tilting alarmingly.

"Just breathe Bellamy," Clarke put a cool hand to the back of his neck and pushed his head down between his knees, holding him there as her free hand began to massage a pressure point at his wrist and she calmly reminded him how to take deep breaths.

His sister and Lincoln hadn't been lying when they told him her bravery had changed. His brave princess had actually considered how to take her own life. "Finish the story please?" He requested from between his knees. She was alive beside him, but he was desperate to know if she had followed through.

"Are you sure?" There was obvious concern in her voice.

"Yes."

"Well, I knew how many pills would be required for an overdose, so one afternoon I gave in and took them,"

The wrecked sound that escaped his throat was horrible even in his ears.

"Right after I swallowed Madi called out to me, she would have let herself in like she always did, and I panicked. I hadn't thought about Madi. Even if there was no one else in the world who would miss me, even if I was damaged, she needed me, was growing reliant on me. So I made myself throw up and called Lincoln in hysterics. That's why he moved to Polis, because of me and I still feel guilty about it. He uprooted his entire life because he was scared I would do something foolish again. He was camped out on my couch for a month even though Octavia had just started her senior year of college and was still in Trikru."

Bellamy couldn't stand to hear the self-recrimination in her tone any longer and shifted to wrap his arms tightly around her, the side of his face resting against the back of her neck. A startled sob fell out of her as he squeezed her.

"I would have missed you," he choked out. "You have never been, nor will ever be, worthless," he spat the word that didn't belong in association with her. "And I still need you." His hold on her grew impossibly tighter. "If you ever think otherwise again, I won't forgive you."

Clarke wept, just fell apart in his arms and Bellamy kept his grip on her, rocking them the whole time, not even trying to stop the angry tears that leaked out of his own eyes.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. They were well and truly cried out by the time Clarke shifted in his arms.

"Will you promise to call me, if you ever need a place to go on a bad day?" She asked of him and he couldn't help but sigh. She had just told him something that would haunt him, he knew, for a long time to come, and she was still worrying about his issues first.

"Only if you promise the same."

She nodded, without hesitation and when he agreed, she suggested they go back inside, where it was warm and they couldn't see their breath. Even went so far as to help him up in case his knee gave out again.

Octavia was on the couch, TV on but eyes faraway, Madi still nowhere to be seen. She blinked herself back to attention when she caught sight of them. "All okay?" She wondered, a hesitancy surrounding her that Bellamy wasn't used to seeing.

"Peachy." Clarke's smile was wobbly, but it was genuine and Octavia visibly relaxed. "Murphy's gone home already. Madi's finished her homework but chatting with Ethan and has requested to not be disturbed. Take a seat, both of you, and watch Brooklyn Nine Nine with me, it'll cheer you both up."

Clarke pulled an ottoman from somewhere and ordered Bellamy to sit, placing said ottoman so he could rest his still throbbing knee, and Bellamy pulled her to sit between him and his sister, Octavia turning the volume up.

Somehow, despite the emotional upheaval of the day, or perhaps because of it, that was how Bellamy dozed off, feeling Clarke solid, warm and most importantly, alive beside him.

Chapter Text

Clarke should have been used to nightmares, they had been such a constant presence in her life since the first time her world had been turned upside down when her dad had been ripped away from her. Her time in the army had changed the theme of those horrible dreams into replays of events that might give even a psychotic serial killer pause. But somehow, the nights since Bellamy had confided in her about his addiction had been some of her worst nights yet.

The things she couldn't change always weighed heavy on her, but at the end of it she could comfort herself with the knowledge that it had been something she really wouldn't have been able to change. The choices she had made and actions she had chosen to take, they weighed heavier still, and she carried them with her no matter what she told herself. 'What ifs' were torture, awake or asleep. If she had reached an injured man just a little earlier. If she had managed to spot an enemy gun just a little sooner. If she had just called Bellamy when he had injured himself...

She couldn't help but wonder if her presence would have made a difference in his struggles, or if he would have pushed her away as he tended to do with the people he cared about when he was the one that needed helping. The logical side of her brain knew that at the time of his injury, she was still barely able to help herself. But her heart seemed to be convinced that they could have helped each other heal.

Clarke was sure her heart would have been proven wrong in this instance. His presence wasn't a magical cure-all, then or now, but the shame and fear that had stopped her back then no longer seemed like good enough reasons not to have found a way to support him.

Putting all of this aside, she was finding that Bellamy had found a new way to grate on her nerves. He had been struggling with her revelation - which as expected, had her feeling mighty guilty with herself for giving in and telling him about it at all - but he wouldn't believe her when she said she was equally as worried about him after his unexpected confession to her. She could only hope that would change with time.

Wednesday night he had called at one in the morning, hesitant about disturbing her sleep, but needing to know she was okay. In the nights since, he had slowly grown less hesitant about calling her at all hours just to check in on her and they had wound up having actual conversations about nothing. So on the one hand, she hadn't had much sleep this week, but on the other, she had been getting a lot of painting done while her emotions swirled about like a kaleidoscope...which would explain why her latest series of canvases were now resembling such colourful patterns.

The early hours of Sunday morning, Clarke found herself more jittery that she hadn't heard from Bellamy than because of any of their issues. Not wanting to wake Roan with her sighs or tossing about, she made her way down into the garage, which doubled as her workshop, and continued on with her latest painting, quickly losing herself in the familiar smell of paint and the soothing strokes of her brush. Perhaps seeing her at family dinner had just given him some reassurance about her well-being and now Bellamy was sleeping just fine while she was still restless...

Surprise didn't begin to cover the emotion that spread through her when her zen was interrupted by the melody of her ringing phone and she found Echo's name lighting up the screen just after 4am. Worry shivered through her as she picked up. "Echo?"

"Clarke, I'm sorry if I woke you." Clarke couldn't place the emotion she could faintly hear in Echo's voice.

"I've been up for a while. Has something happened?" She couldn't help but frown, both in confusion at the general situation and in frustration at herself for giving in and immediately trying to pry.

The woman sighed heavily, actually sighed, and any other day Clarke may have marveled at the obvious display of emotion coming from the usually stoic woman. "Bellamy's not doing so good. Hysterical isn't the right word, exactly, but it took me an hour to get him to say anything coherent, and even that was just him mumbling about not losing you again." She paused long enough to seem hesitant, but briefly enough that Clarke didn't have time to collect her own thoughts. "Bringing him to see you was the only way I could calm him down. I'm just about to pull up in front of your place."

Clarke couldn't get anything out past the lump in her throat, so she hung up with no warning. She couldn't remember the short trip to the front door, flipping on the porch light as she flung the door open.

Bellamy was already midway up the path, Echo still rounding the car. When he glanced up and spotted her there were tears lingering behind his glasses and something halfway between a sob and a sigh of relief fell out of him. And then he was right in front of her, wrapping his arms tightly around her and taking suspiciously shaky breaths.

The hug lasted a little longer than she was comfortable with, with his girlfriend standing right there, and so, with a final squeeze, Clarke pulled back and waved them inside.

Awkward silence followed them into her living room, and before she sat down with the pair, Clarke grasped at the first thing she could think of to give her a moment to collect herself. "Let me put the coffee on," she told them and made a break for the kitchen. Her hand was reaching for the button of the machine when she thought better of giving Bellamy, or herself for that matter, caffeine in his current emotional state. She turned to get a saucepan and physically jolted when she spotted Bellamy lingering in the doorway, watching her with an expression a little like that of a wounded puppy. "Don't creep up on me like that!" She huffed, hand to her racing heart. "Go sit down."

He just shook his head and shuffled over to sit at one of the bench stools.

His dreams must have really done a number on him tonight, so she just sighed, shook her head and followed up on fetching what she needed to make hot chocolate.

Echo's hovering caught in the corner of Clarke's eye and she motioned for the other woman to join Bellamy on a stool.

"Were you painting?" Echo spoke into the silence.

"Yeah." Clarke glanced over. "It's a good way to pass time and it helps keep me calm. I don't always sleep a whole lot."

Bellamy seemed to twitch at her comment. "How much sleep have you had this week?" Figures the first thing out of his mouth was to demand something like that. "Don't roll your eyes at me."

She froze for a second. How did he know she was rolling her eyes at him? "Why are you worried about my sleeping habits? You've barely slept all week yourself."

"This isn't about me." Why was he suddenly being so surly? "You need to sleep properly. Sleep is important for your mental health."

"What did you do? Google PTSD and anxiety?" Clarke shot over her shoulder, she could be irritable too if that's how he wanted to play this. She clinked the mugs a little harder on the bench top than was necessary and poured them each some of the hot liquid. "Drink."

"I thought you were making coffee?" The look he was giving his mug was hard to place. Hesitant and almost apprehensive, and she wasn't sure why as she leaned her hip against the island.

"Well I didn't. Don't drink it if you don't want to." He snatched up the mug when she reached to take it back and turned a little away, defensively. He continued to stare at the liquid rather than drink it though and so Clarke turned her attention to Echo. "Would you prefer coffee?"

"No, thank you." Echo managed a small smile, but she was shooting a confused little frown Bellamy's way. "I've heard rave reviews about your hot chocolate. It lives up to its fame." She took another sip.

The following silence was stretching too long, but Clarke seemed to have forgotten how to start conversations. She was worried about Bellamy, still just sitting there glaring into his mug as though it had offended him somehow.

Eventually it was getting ridiculous and Clarke shifted her focus to Echo. The stunning woman, who seemed to still be gorgeous in the leggings and oversized top Clarke assumed were her pyjamas, met her gaze and they stared each other down for a moment until Echo seemed to get the message and finished off her drink, putting the mug back onto the counter and turning to Bellamy.

"When you've finished, we should go, maybe try to get a couple more hours of sleep before we need to help Murphy and Emori shift?" Bellamy jolted at her comment, and glanced over, a frantic hue to his eyes as he looked between the two women.

"I-" He stopped himself, hesitated, glanced to Clarke and then back at his mug. "I don't want to leave." He mumbled the last part but they could hear him just fine in the quiet of the house.

Clarke, frowning, shared another concerned glance with Echo. "You've seen I'm okay, what exactly did you dream that you won't leave now?"

If it was possible, Bellamy went even more tense. He appeared to be refusing to elaborate however.

This put Clarke in a difficult spot. She could accept, deal with and survive pretty much anything at this point in her life...but Bellamy and Echo sharing a bed in her house? How was she supposed to cope with that? She was sure she wasn't being petty to ask whatever fate or deity might exist in the world to just not force her into living with the knowledge that the man she was in love with was sharing a bed in her sanctuary with somebody else.

Thankfully Bellamy broke the quiet and saved her by giving her a look that was somewhere between desperate and pleading. "You aren't going back to sleep, are you?"

Wondering what he was leading to, Clarke just shook her head.

"So I can just hang around, right? You won't even know I'm here."

Another confused look passed between Clarke and Echo.

"Is that not okay?" It was the uncertainty and underlying heartache in his voice that got to her.

"It's fine. But I'll be in the workshop painting."

"I guess I'll head off." Echo stood.

"You don't have to go," Clarke insisted, hoping it didn't sound halfhearted.

"I'll just run back to his apartment and fetch us a change of clothes." Echo offered her a smile and Clarke couldn't help the brief flash of embarrassment at her assumption.

"Okay, well then." Clarke frowned thoughtfully. "Do you want to see yourself out then? That way you can leave the door unlocked and you can just let yourself back in?"

"Sounds like a plan." Echo lay a hand on Bellamy's forearm and pressed a kiss into the side of his head, so quickly Clarke didn't have time to look away, before heading off.

Silence overtook them briefly again, but now Clarke couldn't help but notice that Bellamy seemed to be feeling a bit awkward as he stared down at the mug still in his hands.

"You're not going to drink that?"

He flinched, flinched. Clarke had never seen him like this before and a sense of disconnection almost overwhelmed her.

Bellamy let out a heavy exhale and hunched his shoulders protectively. "I'm trying to remember the last time you made me hot chocolate," he admitted, almost too quietly for her to hear, even in the sleeping house.

She couldn't put a name to the emotion that pierced straight into her heart. She also couldn't help the little bit of guilt that weaseled its way in - she had no idea either. It had to have been some time between her return from Europe and when her life as she had known it started to collapse around her.

Her hands tremored and she swiftly hid them beneath the line of the bench. She didn't want to give Bellamy any more reasons to feel badly for or sorry towards her. He was clearly already overly worried.

"It's probably gone cold already." She covered quickly, turning away from him. "I've got paint drying. Want the TV on or something?"

"I can't just sit with you?" It was the timid way he asked that had her frowning at him. "You never used to mind me watching you paint."

She had been less self conscious in those days. All she could do was nod and lead him back into her garage, the mug still gripped in his hand.

"What's with all the furniture?" Bellamy appeared startled by the piles of boxes and covered furniture.

"Emori and Murphy started collecting things before they even settled on buying a house together. Between them and your sister, you'd think I ran a storage shed. There's things that have been living here for more than a year." Clarke huffed out a laugh. "When Lincoln and Octavia moved into their place I thought I'd get the majority of my garage back, but then Murphy found a place and then all this," she waved at the inanimate objects, "happened."

"I thought they were storing stuff in O's garage?" Bellamy looked genuinely horrified.

"Yeah, they ran out of space here." Clarke deadpanned, then gestured to the armchair in the corner. "That one's ours. Madi likes to sit out here when I paint, she may have left something you can read."

Bellamy settled himself down and fished around, finding the stack of books beside the chair. "Are these her books for literature this year?"

"Probably." Clarke took up her paint brush and checked none of her paints had dried up.

"The Princess Bride?" Bellamy grinned at her, he knew it was a favourite.

"The reading lists have changed a lot since I was in high school." She rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help the warm affection when he settled back with the novel and finally took a sip from his mug. His eyes dropped closed and he exhaled with obvious relief. It finally clicked for her. "Were you expecting it to taste different to how you remembered?"

His cheeks flushed pink and he ducked his head a little. "Partly worried it would have changed as well and weirdly anxious about it still being the same."

"Goof," Clarke muttered affectionately with a shake of her head. "We're both being completely ridiculous about the oddest things."

Bellamy shot her a look of surprise. "What do you mean?"

It was her turn to blush and hope the next words out of her mouth didn't make everything completely awkward. "I didn't realise until just this second how much I missed your glasses. I don't think I've seen you wear them once since we reconnected."

His expression morphed into a weird combination of startled eyes and a pleased grin.

They went too long without saying anything and Clarke had to look away, focusing her attention back on her canvas and paints.

* * * * Flashback * * * *

"I swear," Clarke panted, pausing to grip at her burning sides. "This better be worth it, or I'm pushing you back down this damn hill!"

"C'mon Princess, we're nearly there." Bellamy laughed over his shoulder, beaming such a boyishly charming grin that if she hadn't already sweated out most of the water in her body, may just have melted her into a delighted puddle.

"Let's go to Granada and see the Alhambra, Princess." It was petty to mimic him under her breath, but who ever heard of having to make such a steep climb on a gravel path under such a blistering sun in this day and age! "It'll be worth the climb, Princess." She huffed and pulled her cap more securely over her flushed face. She was going to burn in this kind of weather.

"If you stop mumbling you won't be so puffed Princess," he called back to her from too many steps ahead.

Every muscle in her legs burned. They had already climbed the hills opposite this one to visit the market stalls - where she had picked up some beautiful handwoven gemstone jewellery, if she did say so herself, and Bellamy had seemed so happy when she bought and then handed over a bracelet of blue agate beads for him, already wearing it - and to see the gypsy caves, but the paved paths had not been anywhere near this steep, surely...

She flinched back reflexively when a bottle of water appeared in her eyeline, courtesy of Bellamy, of course.

Mumbling her thanks and gulping down a fair amount of the water, Clarke braced herself, took two steps, and then suddenly Bellamy's warm palm was closing on her elbow and he was practically dragging her the rest of the way to the top. There, she proceeded to flop down, very ungracefully, in the nearest bit of shade while Bellamy went off to ask about admittance and tours.

Nothing was standing out to her so far, especially not after the last few days spent sightseeing around Barcelona, where you had markets of some of the freshest, most amazing food Clarke had ever tasted, a night life that was a far cry from back home, and feats of architecture that ranged from the Gothic Quarter to all things Gaudi.

Bellamy returned, basically hauled her to her feet and led her inside.

...the climb had totally been worth it. Everything here made her want to sit down and draw. So much so that she didn't even mind Bellamy's now gloating grin as he plonked her down and reached into his backpack, coming back with a sketchbook and charcoals. She wondered how many other things he was lugging around in his pack.

He left her to her sketches, only wandering far enough away to take some photos and listen in on the passing tours. Every once in a while he would return to pick her up and guide her to another section, all the while talking about the original Roman fortifications the fortress had been built on top of, the invasion of the Moors that had renovated and rebuilt, and the later reclaiming by Christian monarchs that led to a portion of the palace being built in a Renaissance style. Somehow they spent an inordinate amount of time in the Court of the Lions, and even longer still in the gardens that seemed to overlook the entirety of Granada.

Evening found them sitting at a quaint little outdoor restaurant sipping sangria (the drink had quickly grown on Clarke), eating paella, and looking across at the Alhambra all lit up while a live band played sultry Spanish melodies. Bellamy still had his camera out, snapping pictures of everything he found even a little interesting.

This was a side of Bellamy that looked good on him. The boyish grin hadn't left his face all day, and reminded Clarke of a puppy in the way his attention kept getting drawn away by anything new.

Struck by the thought that Octavia would probably really get a kick out of seeing her brother so happy, Clarke pulled out her phone and leaned in close to his side. "Smile," she instructed and snapped a few selfies of them, Bellamy grinning widely even when he was pulling faces at the camera. She sent the photos through to Octavia and looked back up in time to see Bellamy turning his camera on to her, so she smiled, posed and pulled faces at him for a while. Her phone pinged with a response from Octavia telling them they were both fools, and had Clarke laughing joyfully.

Patrons started dancing, and maybe it was the sangria, maybe it was just happiness, but they seemed to hold their hands out to each other at the same moment, laughed it off and stood to sway together to the beat.

And this, Clarke couldn't help but think, with his warm skin against her palms as they danced, this felt suspiciously like bliss.

* * * * * End Flashback * * * * *

The next time she glanced over her heart gave a few involuntary extra thumps, Bellamy was sprawled in an awkward fashion over the armchair, asleep. The mug was empty and resting on the floor out of the way of his feet and the novel was laying open, pages down, on his chest.

Quietly as she could, Clarke retrieved a throw blanket from her living room and she motioned for quiet when she crossed paths with Echo coming back down the hall, appearing to have showered and changed in the time she had been gone.

She probably should have felt far more conscious of her actions as she carefully spread the blanket over Bellamy, what with his girlfriend watching on...anyone else probably would have handed the material over so she could lay it over her own boyfriend. Somehow none of that occurred to Clarke until she was straightening back up only to find that Echo was no longer there.

Frowning in confusion, Clarke wandered back through her house and found Echo stocking her fridge. "What are you doing?"

"I noticed Roan's truck out front on my way out and thought you might need breakfast supplies, so I stopped at the twenty-four hour grocer off Main and grabbed some stuff." Echo shot her a look that was almost silent laughter. "And I was right. You have almost nothing here."

Clarke's cheeks flushed. Of course Echo could feed them. "Thanks. Madi wanted to just guilt Murphy into bringing something by. I'm sure you know by now I'm not much of a cook."

"I've heard a few stories." That was definitely teasing in Echo's tone. Clarke was pretty sure she was starting to get the hang of reading Echo...but then she was still struggling with Bellamy, so perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part. Echo stood from her task, startling Clarke back into the moment. "Are you set on painting, or would you fancy a game of chess? I noticed you had a set when I was here for girls' night."

"You play chess?" Clarke mentally kicked herself. Plenty of people in the world played chess, she shouldn't have been so surprised. But it had been years since anyone other than Madi had been willing to play with her. "Sure. Grab the board and meet me in the garage." Clarke went in search of the picnic blanket, some floor cushions and the space heater and in no time at all, the two women were set up on the floor of the garage.

It was a good game. Echo didn't seem to rely entirely on strategy and logic, but rather on reading Clarke to figure out her moves, and until Clarke realised that, it had been a close match.

They were just finishing their second match when Bellamy jolted awake, startling them both, searched the room frantically before spotting Clarke and visibly relaxing. Clarke would need to figure out a way to get him to sleep through the night without worrying about her, or she would be the one waking up from stress dreams.

"Are you two playing chess?" Bellamy broke her reverie with his obvious astonishment. He glanced at Echo apologetically. "One of us should have warned you that Clarke's unbeatable."

"Don't sell your girlfriend short Bellamy," Clarke chided lightly, stretching a teasing grin across her face. "She almost had me the first time."

"Really?" Bellamy blinked at Echo in surprise. "That's pretty impressive. I've never seen anyone other than Monty come close."

"I'm still not convinced Monty doesn't just let others win." Clarke huffed and made her second to last move. "Check."

Echo studied the board and pulled a face, she could see her inevitable demise. "Maybe you can explain to me why Bellamy plays computer chess every once in a while but refuses to actually play against a human being. Most people are far easier opponents than a computer program." She shifted her king in a futile move.

"Do you not remember what happened at girls' night? The Blakes are sore losers. Octavia is the only person he doesn't mind losing to, and half the time it's because he let her win." Clarke pulled a face but ended up chuckling when she saw Bellamy pouting at her. "He used to hate that I'd beat him whenever we played chess. Check mate," she declared triumphantly, and glanced up to catch the tail end of a frown as it left Echo's face. She'd put her foot in it and just announced to Echo that Bellamy had done something with her that he refused to do with his own girlfriend. It shouldn't have been significant, yet somehow it seemed to be, and Clarke wondered briefly if there would be a pattern were she to look carefully enough.

That way lay madness. Clarke shook her head at herself and reached for her phone to check the time.

"Look's like I missed a party." Three pairs of eyes shot to Roan, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his bare chest.

"Echo bought groceries to make breakfast with." Clarke informed him, feeling like it had burst out of her to avoid any awkward glances or silences.

"You clean up here then, or take a shower. I'll get started on breakfast, I'm sure Madi will be up any time now." Roan shot her a grin and disappeared as silently as he had arrived.

It didn't take them long to set things back to rights and Clarke couldn't help but watch on while Echo handed Bellamy a bag apparently containing a change of clothes before announcing she would go and help Roan in the kitchen and leaving Bellamy and Clarke alone.

"Main bathroom has a shower. There should be towels under the sink." Clarke told him before he could speak, feeling strangely defensive suddenly. "You remember where it is?"

Bellamy just nodded, a confused frown furrowing between his eyebrows as he headed off.

She took a few minutes to sit and breathe through an onslaught of overwhelming, indiscernible emotions before she braved going to the kitchen, where Roan promptly shooed her out with a warning.

Almost no time later, Bellamy joined them, looking fresh faced and alert, his hair still damp.

Echo frowned over at him, drawing Clarke's attention back...she hadn't been staring too hard, not at all. "I thought I put your contacts in the bag?"

"My glasses are fine." Bellamy waved off her concern and warmth flushed through Clarke as she couldn't help but wonder if her earlier comment had so easily influenced him.

Madness, she reminded herself and straightened away from where she had wilted against the kitchen island. Roan was still shirtless but she was staring at damp curls instead? Absolute madness. "Well, my turn then, since I've been banished from my own kitchen."

"No one will stand up for you to cook, Blondie." Roan pulled a face at her and waved her off.

She made sure not to meet Bellamy's eyes on her way past him, for the sake of her own sanity, and took a longer than needed shower. She even lingered longer over getting ready, suddenly feeling it was going to be a long day.

When she finally made it back downstairs, Murphy and Emori had let themselves in and her kitchen seemed to be full to bursting. Madi was helping Echo juice fruits - Clarke wasn't aware she even had a juicer - Emori was setting the table, Roan and Murphy were sharing the stove and Bellamy of all people seemed to have ended up in charge of coffee.

With nothing else to do, Clarke fished her phone out of her pocket and called Octavia.

"Somehow the majority of our family seems to be in my kitchen." She informed the younger Blake, able to hear the bafflement in her own voice. "You guys want to bring your breakfast here?"

"We'll be right over." Was all she got before Octavia hung up.

Chapter Text

John Murphy had been surprised before, sure. He had learned young, however, to roll with the punches and to try not to let it show.

Emori had been his biggest surprise. How quickly they had fallen for each other, and how easy forgiveness was between them. Somehow, despite his many, many screw ups over the years, he had lucked out and found someone who was willing to put up with him.

He would never tell Clarke to her face, but Murphy knew he owed a lot to her. He had learned so much from her. Clarke had been the first person since his father to not immediately judge him as worthless. She was the one who had suggested he find something he enjoyed to do with his life, or failing that, something that would at least get him by. So now he was a mechanic who co-owned his own shop and could somehow afford to buy a house and the promise of a future that wasn't just getting by.

Murphy had learned something about forgiveness from Clarke too. Even when she had been mad at him, or anyone really, she treated him with kindness. The longest - and only - grudge he had ever seen her hold was against her mother, and even that was void these days.

Seeing her return from her first two tours with the army had been unsettling for him. It hadn't been overtly obvious, but she had been altered somehow, he had just never been able to place it at the time.

And then they had met Bellamy. Murphy and Raven first, as Clarke had still been away on tour, and Murphy had felt an affinity with the cocky young man that Bellamy had been. He had hidden behind his arrogant smirks and egotistic words, yet still somehow inspired unwavering loyalty in the people around him. But then Bellamy met Clarke and Clarke obliterated his facade. With her, he was just...Bellamy. And so Murphy had learned something again, what a true, deep connection that went beyond sex should look like...those two idiots had been in love then, even if neither of them knew it.

Losing Clarke had done a number on all of them, and Murphy would be the first to admit that when he got her back, it had taken him too damn long to reaslise that some parts of the girl who had at turns been friend, sister and mother to him hadn't returned at all. And if he had taken that knowledge hard, he didn't need to be a genius to know that Bellamy would take it even harder. It was the main reason he had resolved to keep her presence in Polis from Bellamy in the first place.

And so, the day that Murphy was taking another step toward a brighter future, he had known that he needed Clarke there. He needed her guidance and her strength. But walking into her kitchen, after resolving to be there early to distract her from overthinking any of her new dynamic with Bellamy (now that Bellamy and Echo were going to be helping out as well), and seeing Bellamy already there...even with Roan and Echo in the background, it had surprised Murphy how natural it could still be to find him there at all.

Six years and it had only taken them a month to fall halfway back to how they had always been. Murphy could see it even more clearly when Clarke joined them and Bellamy's eyes started drifting across to her, catching her eye and offering each other small smiles of reassurance that left Murphy rolling his eyes at them.

Murphy had known Bellamy for eight years now. He had known him with Clarke, and without her. Bellamy with Clarke had been lighter, and more free than Murphy had seen him before or after her. Grins came easier, smirks faster still, and there was that particular twinkle he would get in his eyes, a softness too. His shoulders no longer looked quite so heavy either. Even broken, their connection to each other was something to behold. Bellamy still pouted when his sister arrived and distracted Clarke, and a little bit of crazy appeared in his eyes when Roan pulled her into him to whisper something that made her smirk. Murphy had sidled up to Bellamy just in time to hear a mumbled "does he not own a shirt?" and was helpless to stop the snickering laughter that caught everyone's attention, earning Bellamy's glare.

It was when they started loading furniture from Clarke's garage into cars that memories of the old days really hit Murphy though, when Bellamy and Clarke got into a heated argument over Bellamy helping with the heavy lifting. Clarke didn't hesitate to remind Bellamy that his knee had been an issue only a few days earlier, and he shouldn't overtax it. Bellamy had retorted that he was perfectly capable of knowing his own limits. It had spiraled quickly when Bellamy had accused her of babying him and trying to control everything. Clarke had said something along the lines of "sorry for caring", training her frigid glare on him, and in the midst of all this, it occurred to Murphy that this was the first time in years he had seen the once familiar expression.

With a glare of his own and a huff, Bellamy had inevitably given in and grabbed a box, marching away.

Murphy made the mistake of catching Octavia's eye at that point and both of them had to turn away to stop themselves from laughing.

"What just happened? Why are you laughing?" Emori demanded, a concerned expression on both hers and Echo's faces.

If he spoke, Murphy was sure he would start laughing, but thankfully Lincoln spoke up to save him.

"This is how they always were." Even Lincoln had an amused little smirk tilting his lips. "Later it will be like it never happened."

Emori frowned over at Murphy. "You weren't kidding when you tried to tell me how they used to be, were you? I honestly thought you were exaggerating."

"Can't exaggerate those two." Murphy shook his head, collecting himself, though he couldn't quite wipe the smile off his face. "Just when you think you figure them out, they go and do something like that." Echo twitched at his words, Murphy just caught it, and her gaze skipped back over to Bellamy, a shadow in her eyes. Murphy couldn't help but feel bad for her. He liked Echo, she had grown on him over the years and Emori was a huge fan. But there was that one part of him, a part he kept quietly hidden, that was sure both of his old friends would be happier together, and that meant Echo would probably get hurt along the way...he wondered for a moment if Echo had maybe already begun to figure it out.

When they couldn't fit anything else in their cars, they drove a block down the street to the new Murphy residence. Situated closer to Clarke's than Octavia's house and still on Thirteenth Street, it was smaller than both but Emori had fallen in love with it the moment she saw it, and that was good enough for Murphy. They had had renovations done on the kitchen and bathrooms, and Clarke had been helping them paint over the past few weeks. Only the day before, Emori and Murphy had aired the whole place out and cleaned from top to bottom in preparation.

Emori was the one with the vision, and played director while everyone lugged furniture and boxes around the house. It took several trips to and from both Clarke's and Octavia's before everything was in the house and every room had been turned into organised chaos.

Miller showed up to help at lunch time, bringing takeout with him, and everybody broke off into groups to eat, sitting haphazardly wherever they found a seat.

Somehow, Murphy found Bellamy sitting alone with his food - though Echo wasn't far off chatting with Emori - and where he had a direct line of sight of where Clarke, Octavia and Madi were sitting on the floor in the disorderly living room, chatting and laughing. He was clearly still pouting about the earlier argument, and Murphy decided it was about time they had a little chat, so he took a seat smack in the way of Bellamy's eyeline.

Bellamy shot him a sullen glare and trained his gaze on his food.

"We need to have a talk, I think." That pulled Bellamy's attention. "I caught the tail end of your conversation with Clarke the other day when I was going to come out to say bye. She doesn't know that I already assumed, and we're going to keep it that way." Murphy was sure if he could keep a certain level of casual disregard on the surface, the whole conversation could be more survivable.

"Okay?" Bellamy was clearly confused. "So why are we talking about it?"

"Because I'm way more comfortable telling you than your sister," Murphy admitted, far too easily for his liking. "But also because I'm still not used to how Clarke is now versus how I used to know her. I figure it's the same for you. I've known her longer, but you probably knew her better. You need to hear how much better she is now, and I can tell you that because even three years on I'm still freaked out by what I've seen her go through, while your sister is too used to Clarke as she is now."

He felt suspiciously like a dreaded mediator right now, but he had Bellamy's undivided, glowering, attention. Uncomfortable though he may be trying to hash out emotional nonsense, it was emotional nonsense that needed to be said for the sake of his friends. He could do this.

"When I walked into the Mad Tatter that first time and saw her again, tattooing a radish on some hipster chef, my first reaction was complete relief and it pissed me off so damn much." Clarke had had no right to drop out of his life after being his only constant and then pop up again unannounced looking better than ever when he had finally gotten his life sorted. "Then I was slinging insults at her and Octavia was swinging at me, and Clarke's telling me about the ways her life had fallen apart but she was so proud of me and how well I was doing." Partnering in his own shop and making moves to commit to a future with Emori. Those had been her words, making it as obvious as a baboon's arse that she had been keeping up to date on his life.

Murphy's cushy chair wasn't what was making him adjust uncomfortably in his seat. "Turns out I asked all the wrong questions and accepted the easy answers even though I could tell she was different. Day to day, the only real difference I noticed at first was that she was quieter and less...involved. It wasn't until I started to look at the little things that I really saw the changes. The tremors and nervous movements she'd make that I had never seen before. The more I noticed, the more confused I was, because they were happening all the damn time." Now for the part he really hated to remember. "Then one day, just a normal day, the two of us were alone, I was washing dishes, I couldn't even tell you now what meal it was or where everyone else had gone, but it was so completely mediocre, and then I dropped a damn plate. Not far, just onto the counter and it didn't even break, but next thing I knew, Clarke was hyperventilating."

He braced his hands on his knees, steadying himself. "She was there, could hear me and see me, but she had this look in her eyes that she wasn't really there, you know? I was freaking out, because that was Clarke and she couldn't tell me what to do and I knew everything had changed. Clarke always had an answer for every-damn-thing, but not how the hell I get her to breathe. Then her lips were going blue and I swear she was going to pass out and I'm asking myself what she would do if our situations were reversed. I'm not sure if what came over me was calm or if I was so panicked I'd gone numb, but I started talking, I'm not sure about what, but suddenly she was taking breaths again." By the time he had realised she was breathing again and not blue anymore, she had been tearing up and then he had been so relieved he was tearing up, and it almost gave him hives to think about it now. "I thought I knew what it meant for her to have PTSD but I didn't have a clue, I was comparing her to how I remembered Jasper after Maya's death and I was so far off base."

The look Bellamy was giving him was something Murphy had never seen on the older man, but he had to keep going.

Changing positions again to cross his arms over his chest, Murphy continued on. "I knew we all relied on Clarke, the group I mean, before she left, but then she disappeared overnight and we all just fell apart." More like shattered like the screen on a dropped phone. "I was seriously under prepared for what it meant to no longer have Clarke around in some way, because even when she was off on tour there were phone calls, video chats, emails and letters, she was still solving our problems and acting as the deciding factor in mine and Raven's arguments." Even when she was on the other side of the world in a war zone. "Having her just be completely gone..." he trailed off for a moment to think what else he needed to say.

"Thinking I could deal with her PTSD, no problem, that she seemed fine...I wasn't prepared for how unstable she still was. Seeing her fall apart just because of the noise a dropped plate made on a bench." Murphy would never admit it aloud, but it may have been the scariest thing he'd ever faced, a Clarke that was broken. "Up until that moment after she was breathing again, I was still so completely clueless, because under the tears, she was mumbling and promising she wouldn't try it again, and I had no idea what she meant until a few days later when it just clicked. The person I had known since Freshman year of high school, the one who was always dead set on overcoming adversity, had gone to the darkest place imaginable and not all of her had come back." If she had have gone out like that, while he was pissed off at her for not showing her face at Jasper's funeral, especially now he knew she was there...actually just the very idea of Clarke dying intentionally, it still gave Murphy chills and made him sick to his stomach.

There was a sheen of tears in Bellamy's eyes now, and Murphy knew he had gotten carried away, said too damn much, but he had to make sure he got his point across because he wasn't doing this again. His lack of snark during this whole spiel was probably far more telling than most of the words he was actually saying.

"Clarke now, she still cares, probably more so than any of us, but she doesn't take control unless we really need her to. She isolates herself even when she's standing in a room full of people. There are times at family dinner where I used to look over and expect her to insert herself into a conversation with one of her opinions just like she had always done, but she wouldn't even be focusing on the conversation. And after saying all that, Bellamy, you've been back in her life for a month, a month, and I'm already seeing more of the old Clarke than I've seen in the last three years."

Bellamy blinked at him in apparent astonishment, clearly not expecting the turn in the conversation.

"I'm saying that you have good timing, Blake." Murphy smirked, completely ready to return to his usual, more sarcastic self. "She's telling you because she still trusts you, not to have you stress about a past you can't change."

It looked like every single one of Bellamy's muscles melted, the way the tension rolled right out of him. "Thanks Murphy."

With perfect timing, Emori and Echo joined them.

"Bellamy, Echo and I were just chatting and I didn't realise we hadn't mentioned it to you." Emori looked truly apologetic, and Murphy couldn't figure out why. "We do a little Halloween bash every year. This year, since we're in this house now, we're going all out. It'll be a bit of a housewarming too that way. The two of you are, of course, invited."

Murphy went a little tense at the mention of their annual Halloween party. The last two Halloweens, they had had small parties in their cramped apartment. Just a handful of people from their workplaces, Lincoln and Octavia, and Madi and Clarke.

"Are you going to be settled enough? That's less than two weeks away." Bellamy's concerned tone pulled his attention right back.

"Well, we were hoping we would have been in the house already by now, but the renovations took longer than expected." Emori explained. "We'll be ready enough though. Besides John has been insisting that we'd have a Halloween party no matter what. We always celebrate it, it's the day we met after all."

Only Emori could give him this sense of overwhelming emotion just because of a secret, sassy little smirk she shot his way.

Bellamy gave his promises and the girls wandered off to join the others in the living room.

"You've got a weird, un~Murphy like expression happening right now." Bellamy raised questioning eyebrows at him.

Murphy felt kind of badly, he knew Bellamy could keep a secret, but he was not risking ruining his surprise. Clarke knew and that was enough. She was also the perfect way to distract one Bellamy Blake. "Clarke's been helping me plan this year."

"Clarke?" The look of absolutely pure astonishment on Bellamy's face was gold. "You've got Clarke Griffin not only attending a Halloween party, but helping you plan it?"

"Not only that, she dresses up and everything." Murphy smirked. As Clarke's changes went, her role as a mother was Murphy's favourite. "Madi loves Halloween almost as much as she loves Christmas, and Clarke would do anything for the hobbit."

"What the heck kind of parallel universe is this?" Bellamy leaned around Murphy and called out to Clarke, whose attention was so immediate it was almost comical. "You attend Halloween parties now?"

Clarke's cheeks flushed pink. "Don't you dare make a big deal out of it." She shot him a half-hearted glare and looked away pointedly.

"Madi," Bellamy called, and the teen perked up. "You work miracles." He gave the beaming girl a thumbs up.

"You know why she hates Halloween?!" Octavia suddenly accused, jumping to her feet and pointing a finger at her brother, who just pulled a childish face at her that had everyone laughing at them.

"I repeat, the miracle is the person who managed to get her to embrace the day." Bellamy retorted, standing to clean up his lunch and get back to work as the others were starting to do.

One of the things Murphy loved about Emori was her ability to see something good in what others saw as junk. Her love of antiques and flea markets meant that all the bits and pieces, vases, glasses and other odds and ends, had mostly been collected at markets and fairs. Some of their pieces of furniture were even rescues, restored and reupholstered. Murphy had been encouraging her to try and restore and sell some things as a side business, and was hoping that now they had a garage space, she might decide to pursue her passion.

The down side to collecting was that nothing stored in boxes were in any particular order. So while most of the family were trying to put together beds and organise furniture placement in other rooms - he could hear Madi and Octavia off in the living room - Murphy found himself sorting out where things belonged in his kitchen, Clarke on unpacking duty.

For a reason that was beyond him, Murphy was feeling as though there was some sort of elephant in the room and twenty minutes of silences or idle chatter were more than he could take. He pulled out his phone, determined to put on something they could sing along with to help pass the time quicker. He hit shuffle, turned the volume up and We Built This City came on.

Murphy crooned along from the beginning, and right on cue, Clarke joined him on the vocals for the chorus in a comically exaggerated manner. Moments like this, he could almost forget that life had changed so drastically, miming a guitar on a pan, Clarke laughing at him even as she sang along...an affectionate eye roll and it would be almost as though they were back in their teen years, before Finn and Raven, before the Blakes had come along and Monty and Jasper with them, back when music was the only thing besides imprisoned fathers and trying to make it through their teen years that they had in common.

When the music switched out to George Ezra's Budapest, Madi abruptly skidded in to start dancing, and the laughter on Clarke's face - as they swung their hips, arms and shoulders in some kind of uncoordinated attempt at a dance - brightened in that soft but fierce way that only Madi could pull from her these days, lighting up the room. By the time the next hit filled the room, Octavia had also abandoned her task and joined in the singing, dramatic moments with various household items passing as fake microphones included.

Murphy had no idea how this had come about. Before he really knew it, he had started silly dancing with the girls and didn't even care anymore. He was stone cold sober, but when Emori caught his eye right as Abba came on, all he did was smirk confidently and pull her in, proceeding to lead her around in a ridiculous attempt at a tango that had her laughing delightedly.

The song was changing again, to the annoyingly catchy tune of Dance Monkey, when he spotted a smirking Bellamy leaning, arms crossed, against the arch that led to the hallway. It looked like Octavia and Madi were both making attempts to convince him to join them, but even Murphy knew Bellamy was a jump-along-when-drunk type of dancer.

What he saw next, however, almost had him tripping over air in surprise.

Clarke, in a few wiggly, in-time-to-the-beat steps, was in front of the stubborn man, taking hold of his wrists and giving him a grin that was nothing short of mischief and glee. "C'mon Blake, I've seen your moves, no getting out of this," she teased, moving with an encouraging sway of her body, and Bellamy Blake, Bellamy freaking Blake, his smirk slipping into an affectionate smile, rolled his eyes, released the casual cross of his arms, and followed her.

If there was one thing Murphy had never doubted in this world, it was that Bellamy Blake would always give, and had always given, in to Clarke Griffin. What he was currently witnessing, though he was sure his jaw was hitting the floor, was absolute, infallible proof, because Bellamy was beaming and moving as though he danced every other day of the week, completely natural and comfortable with his movements.

"Holy cow!" Emori hissed in his ear, drawing his attention to her expression of shock as she watched Bellamy dance with his eyes, and smile, still mostly focused on Clarke. "Bellamy's in love with Clarke!"

"You think so too?" Murphy smirked. His girl was always a clever one.

"You knew?!" Her gaze smacked into his, too many emotions rapidly flashing in her eyes for him to have time to label them.

"Pretty sure everyone but Clarke and Bellamy have figured it out at some point." Murphy couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"But Echo..." Emori trailed off, obviously worried how this would affect her friend, glancing back over at Bellamy. "I've never seen him look at her like that." It was almost a whisper now, though no one was in danger of overhearing.

"Which is why we'll let them figure it out themselves." It was bad enough getting stuck in the middle of their friendship, Murphy wouldn't get involved in any less platonic related issues that may or may not ever arise, not unless his life actually depended on it.

"Does Clarke feel the same for Bellamy?" Emori demanded in a whisper. "Is that why there are so many issues?"

Murphy could only shrug. "Clarke's harder to read." The last time he had been convinced Clarke was in love with Bellamy, she had come home dating someone who definitely was not Bellamy.

It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps that had been the real problem six years ago. Everything had started falling apart when Clarke started dating Lexa. Was it possible that half of their family's problems with Lexa had actually been that she wasn't Bellamy? Sure, none of them had really approved of how Clarke had started behaving after she met the army commander, but for all the ways Lexa had seemed to change Clarke, she had never actually been cruel or forced Clarke to do anything, had she? Murphy couldn't seem to recall it exactly.

The melody shuffled again, pulling Murphy back to the present in time to notice the way Clarke shot Octavia a pointed look and the younger Blake jumped in for what Murphy quickly figured out must have been a rescue when he spotted their audience. Echo was frowning in what he assumed was confusion from the spot near the entrance Bellamy had previously been observing from.

"Water!" Octavia declared, dragging Clarke by her wrist towards the kitchen. "We should be working, not having a random dance party."

Murphy had missed something, he was sure of it. Or perhaps he was just realising that Octavia was in on something Clarke just hadn't told him. Another glance to Echo was enough for him to assume that at the very least, Clarke wasn't comfortable with how hers and Bellamy's friendship would come across with the woman that was still only a few levels up from being a stranger to her.

"It's my bad guys." Murphy jumped in with a grin to distract everyone, turning the music down. "Let's finish up and then maybe we all have a dance party?"

"Nope." Emori shot him down. "No more dancing today." A glance her way confirmed his suspicion that she was playing along with him, and already moving on to handing out new jobs that put Bellamy in a very different room to Clarke once again.

And so that was how the rest of their day played out. Clarke and Murphy worked as a team, carefully avoiding mentioning what had just occurred. Clarke seemed to completely avoid being left alone with Bellamy, even through dinner, though she still reminded Murphy what to order when he called for Chinese to be delivered, every item she mentioned were foods that Murphy knew full well were Bellamy's favourites. If he was any other kind of friend, he would have called her on it.

For all of her careful avoidance though, at some point between Miller and Roan leaving, Echo and Emori disappearing back upstairs, and Octavia pulling a deck of cards out of a cupboard she had placed them in earlier for a game of Go Fish to allow them to relax before she and Lincoln "made tracks", Bellamy and Clarke had settled on the couches in the lounge room and promptly fallen asleep, their heads tilted towards each other as though they had been chatting before dozing off.

They looked peaceful. There was no better word Murphy could think to use. If you removed the obvious signs of time presented in Bellamy's beard and Clarke's shorter hair, it was like catching a glimpse into the past.

Murphy huffed out a sigh. What the heck was he - or any of their family - supposed to do with these two?